


i'll run two steps at once

by disstrack



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Animals, Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Illnesses, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Rain, Romance, Sexual Content, Sickfic, Slow Burn, side pairings jeongsoo and jicheol, yet again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disstrack/pseuds/disstrack
Summary: “Mingyu,” Minghao starts, after a long pause. “What the fuck?”Mingyu tightens his hold on the box, tensing, though he tries his best not to let it show. His confidence is slowly slipping away, but he still holds onto his resolve. “Uh,” He says. “Happy Valentine’s Day?” The dog barks excitedly, as if on cue. Minghao just stares at him, unamused.or: That futuristic au where Minghao has a soft spot for animals, Mingyu has a soft spot for his boyfriend, and Seoul almost always rains. It’s both a good and bad thing.





	1. don't play around, i know you're there

**Author's Note:**

> (i had this idea after ioi's downpour came out - so long ago - and then the decision to make it gyuhao came from my love for minghao and the lack of long gyuhao fics that are domestic or established relationship, so i thought, why not make a fic that's both? and then don't wanna cry came out, motivating me to finish this first chapter and post it)
> 
> another futuristic au, though like the soonhoon one, it isn't a recurring theme; it's more like a setting, a background of sorts. /unlike/ the soonhoon one though, this will be a multi-chaptered fic. hopefully this will be better than my first seventeen work, but maybe not by a lot, because i am not that good of a writer, and i'm still trying to get the hang of writing in genres like these. i hope you enjoy it though!
> 
> fic title taken from seventeen's boom boom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from the lyrics of don't wanna cry by seventeen

Mingyu swears it’s a good gift. Nobody may believe him, but he swears it is. He knows Minghao, after all. And he worked so hard on it. Minghao can’t _not_ like it.

He presses the doorbell twice. When there’s no response after a few seconds, he does it again and again and every time, he’s only met with silence. The bright smile he’s decided to plaster on his face today slightly wavers in confusion and annoyance before he realizes that this is _Minghao_ he’s going to, and Minghao had told him to never wait for him to open the door because he won’t. He really won’t.

So Mingyu does it himself, holding onto the handle with his free hand and attempting to enter. The door isn’t locked, thankfully, so Mingyu is able to slide it open and go inside, closing the door with his foot as he makes sure that what he’s carrying is supported by both his hands now. He thinks the Chinese boy should be more concerned for his safety, maybe even get a better door than a sliding one, so it won’t be so easy to break into town house. Then again, maybe it’s the fact that he never locks it that would make breaking in possible in the first place.

“Minghao?” Mingyu calls out, when he doesn’t see a lanky figure by the hallway. He makes his voice louder as he walks past the kitchen, when he peeks into the kitchen to not find the younger there. “Don’t tell me you’re not here! I have something for you!”

“ _Ugh_ ,” He hears a loud groan coming from the living room up ahead, and Mingyu perks up as he starts to walk. There aren’t any doors that separate any of the rooms on the lower floor, save for the bathroom, and the same thing goes for the second floor, where Minghao’s bedroom is. Mingyu seriously believes Minghao should be concerned about his safety and privacy. “I’m here. I can hear you.”

His voice sounds strange, Mingyu can’t help but note. But it makes sense, once the elder steps into the living room and sees Minghao, red-nosed with dark and heavy eye bags, curled up in a ball with a blanket wrapped around him and staring at Mingyu. He’s sick.

“And to think the weather is nice today.” Mingyu comments.

Minghao glares at Mingyu, though it isn’t so threatening, and sinks himself further in the couch. “Shut it.” He mutters. The cushion isn’t faced towards the TV, but towards the veranda ahead. The curtains are pushed open, and the sunlight illuminates the room rather than artificial ones. It seems that Minghao was staring at it, aware of the climate even before Mingyu had pointed it out. At least Mingyu didn’t have to worry about exposing the house and Minghao to the sun to stay healthy and clean, unlike other people he knows, who lock themselves in the dark just to work and never see the light of day.

By the time Mingyu turns his gaze away from the balcony back to Minghao, he finds the boy with his eyes closed, trying to rest and enter dreamland. “Yah,” Mingyu pouts. “I didn’t come all the way here just for you to sleep.”

“Go away.” Minghao grumbles. “Let me rest.”

Mingyu would, usually, but this time is different. He needs Minghao to see it now, and he wants him to have it already. The excitement drums impatiently through his veins and he can’t contain it any longer anymore, even if Minghao is like this at the moment. The sight of chewy stuff toys and other trinkets not meant for people scattered around the room, messily and half-heartedly put away, only motivates Mingyu further to get Minghao alive enough to see it and take it.

“No.” Mingyu says firmly. “Not until you’ll see this.” Minghao groans again. “I swear you’ll like it! I promise! I worked very hard on it.”

“Fine.” The younger sighs, slowly moving to sit up. “What is it?”

Mingyu perks up and shakes the box a bit. Immediately, the lid bursts open and a head pops out. There’s silence afterwards, a tense quiet Mingyu doesn’t expect.

“Mingyu,” Minghao starts, after a long pause. “What the fuck?”

Mingyu tightens his hold on the box, tensing, though he tries his best not to let it show. His confidence is slowly slipping away, but he still holds onto his resolve. “Uh,” He says. “Happy Valentine’s Day?” The dog barks excitedly, as if on cue. Minghao just stares at him, unamused. “It’s a dog.”

“I’m not stupid. I know it’s a dog.” Minghao hisses. And even though Minghao is sniffling, sick, and way too comfortable resting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around him, he still manages to kick Mingyu out of his house and slide the door shut before Mingyu can protest. When Mingyu tries reopening it, he finds that it’s locked.

The dog barks at Mingyu, unaware of what had just occurred.

~::~

“I really worked hard on this.” Mingyu says, as he stands in front of the door of Minghao’s house. The latter leans by the doorway, arms crossed and that same blanket from yesterday still wrapped around him. He’s still sick, but well enough to entertain Mingyu who stands outside and continually refusing to let him in. “Just saying.”

“Yeah, right.” Minghao scoffs. “I bet you got Wonwoo-hyung to do that.” He eyes the box by Mingyu’s feet. The dog that sits inside looks up at Minghao with beady, holly eyes. When it barks, the sound rings through its metallic-made body and leaves it’s wide, sharp-toothed mouth. Besides that, it looks more or less real – _alive_ – even though Minghao knows otherwise.

“I helped.” Mingyu defends. “And it’s not like Wonwoo-hyung does things for free or on discount just because we’re friends. Machinists are expensive nowadays!”

“Uh-huh.” Minghao says. He crosses his arms. “I don’t want it.”

“Didn’t you hear me? It took a lot of effort to make this.” Mingyu points out. “And it’s not for me. It’s for you. You like dogs.”

“So?” Minghao says. “I don’t want one that isn’t real.”

“Hey, don’t be mean.” Mingyu says, instantly crouching down and covering the dog’s ears, as if it’ll get offended. “It is real. He has the same needs as everyday dogs. He eats and sleeps and poops and plays, you know. The only thing that’s different is that he can eat anything, like trash. It’ll be converted into energy, apparently, since Wonwoo-hyung installed this advanced converter inside him. He’ll poop, of course, but he’s trained to do it outside. It’s probably not going to be anything smelly, so I wouldn’t worry.”

“Is that supposed to convince me?”

“C’mon,” Mingyu says. “I had this made just for _you_. He’s really just like a normal dog, I swear! His teeth may look sharp and his jaw is big but that’s really just to scare people, and he’s really good, trust me. Besides, you already have all the things dogs would need – like a bowl, a bed, toys . . . you’re ready!”

“ _You_ keep it. It’s your fault you’re not prepared.” Minghao says.

“Minghao,” Mingyu practically _whines_. “Why aren’t you listening to me? This was really made just for you, okay? I won’t take no for an answer.” He stands up, lifting the box as he does so. “Don’t lie to me. I know you secretly want it. You _love_ dogs. It doesn’t matter whether it’s an actual one or not, you’ll see.” Minghao’s sour expression doesn’t waver. “I can’t always be here, you know.” Mingyu adds softly. “But he will– whenever you’re lonely, when you can’t go out, and when you can. He’ll make things better.” _Just like your last dog._ Mingyu mentally adds, but doesn’t think of saying aloud. It’s best not to pick at the slowly healing wound.

Minghao remains silent for the next few seconds, before he narrows his eyes as he looks at Mingyu with a glare. “Whatever.” The younger eventually says. “Bring it in.” He turns around and starts to head inside, and Mingyu trails behind him, unable to resist a smile.

Mingyu sets the box down by the living room as Minghao lies down on the couch and curls up in the same position he was in yesterday. The older lifts the dog up and puts him on the small bed especially made for his kind on the floor. He’s excited, but Mingyu commands him to sit down and wait. The dog does it without hesitation, obedient.

Mingyu turns to Minghao, who, once again, is trying to sleep. It’s hard not to be fond, so Mingyu leans forward to kiss Minghao one the nose, which wrinkles in response. “I love you.” He can’t help but add.

 “Don’t do that. You might get sick.” But Minghao looks relaxed anyways.

Mingyu laughs, because that’ll never happen. Minghao’s sickness isn’t contagious. And he laughs, more importantly, because he’s really happy.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

~::~

Minghao doesn’t feed him, sidetracked because he’s sick and because he’s doing other things, but it seems like the dog doesn’t really need his owner to take initiative. Minghao doesn’t really make a mess, but there are occasionally useless things that slip out of his grasp and he forgets to pick them back up. The dog eats them like they’re bacon, and Minghao doesn’t really mind. At least he won’t be slipping on inkless pens or plastic wrappers anytime soon.

He’s probably a bad owner, Minghao can’t help but think, since he’s just ignoring his pet – it’s hard to process that he really _is_ a dog, when he’s made of metal and the screws that are obvious if you’d pet him, lying beneath the realistic fur, and even his barks sound different – so he feels slightly bad. It’s hard to do something about it though, right now when he still feels really shitty. He’ll make it up to the dog when he has the energy to, he promises to himself.

Minghao is busy looking through the desk in his bedroom when his eye catches an object hanging by the corner. It’s a dog tag, an old one, belonging to his previous pet. It makes him ache a little, when he remembers her, but then he also remembers that the current dog he has doesn’t even have a name. Mingyu never told him, and the dog doesn’t even have a collar, what more a _tag_ , so Minghao doesn’t know.

“Does he have a name?” Minghao asks Mingyu when he calls.

“ _No_ ,” Minghao hears shuffling. _“You’re the one who’s going to give him a name.”_

“I don’t think I’m good with this stuff.”

 _“I don’t think it’s something you’re supposed to be good at.”_ Mingyu says. _“Just, I don’t know,_ name _him. Maybe name him after something or someone that has importance to you, or something.”_

“Are you telling me to name him after you then?”

Mingyu laughs. _“No, but I’m honored that you consider me important.”_ He replies. _“It’s up to you, in the end.”_ He pauses _. “Anyways, I have to go. I’ll see you when I can.”_

“Okay.” And the phone call ends. Minghao stares down at the dog, which stands right by his feet, looking up at him with a tilted head and expectancy. He had followed Minghao upstairs without warning, but Minghao isn’t mad. “I don’t know what to name you, just saying.” He tells the dog. “I think you’ll have to wait.”

He doesn’t know what to expect, but the dog trails behind him even as he goes down the stairs and moves around from there. Minghao has his blanket wrapped around him the entire time, so it drags on the ground and he doesn’t give a fuck. When he settles on the floor, right in front of the glass sliding doors that lead to the balcony, the dog sits right beside him, silent as he also follows Minghao’s gaze towards what lies beyond the doors. It’s kind of annoying, since he feels like he can’t have alone time anymore. Then again, it’s a dog. What can he do in the house if there’s nothing to do?

“Do you want to go out?” Minghao eventually asks, when he feels fed up with the silence. “The weather has been good so far. If it’s still good tomorrow, then I think we’ll be able to go out.” The dog doesn’t reply, only continues staring outside. His tail wags though, and that tells Minghao enough. “I’m sorry you can’t go out. I think you want to, and _I_ also want to, but I can’t. I usually have to wait a few days more before I get my strength back. The weather is really fucking brutal to me.” Minghao chuckles bitterly to himself before sighing. “Why am I talking to a dog? You can’t even say anything.” Unless it can, since it’s a robotic dog, but Minghao highly doubts that’s likely if Mingyu was the one who commissioned it from Wonwoo. But the dog only scoots closer to Minghao and rubs his head against his thigh, as if he understands what Minghao’s referring to. His insides become soft, remembering how comforting it was to have company when he was alone in his house, remembering how he was comforted in the same way before being left behind. The dog can’t and doesn’t say anything, not even a bark, but the act is enough for Minghao.

He lifts his blanket a bit and stretches it, lets it reach the dog so he can be nearer with his owner. When he feels the dog move closer, starts to feel warm because of the animal’s presence, a name enters his mind.

“Jun,” Minghao says. The name is sentimental and bears great significance, but Minghao swears to himself that he still doesn’t like the dog, and still finds him a bit annoying. “I’ll call you that.”

~::~

It’s different, walking a robotic dog through the park, but Minghao tries not to let it bother him. Even though Jun’s body makes a sound as he wakes, a creak that slips out every few steps, which tells Minghao that he needs to go to Wonwoo at some point to fix that, nobody really notices what makes Jun different from other dogs, and if they do, they don’t confront them about it.

Minghao doesn’t often walk around Seoul as he used to before, so he gets tired easily, and eventually sits by the sidewalk’s bench, holding onto Jun by the leash attached to his collar as other dogs slowly approach him in wariness but with interest as well, curiously trying to get to know Jun.

He feels the bench sink a little, and he turns to see a middle-aged woman with graying hair sitting down beside him by the other end. She has a dog of her own to accompany her, one about the same size as Jun and engrossed with playing with him. The woman’s dog has fur the color of silver and white, smooth-looking and soft. Minghao doesn’t recognize the breed, but it’s familiar to him nonetheless. 

“That’s a sweet dog you’ve got there.” She remarks, watching as Jun gently paws at some of the animals with caution but friendliness. “Very adorable too.”

Minghao nods and doesn’t say anything. He’s been with Jun long enough that he doesn’t despise him as much as he did the first time, when Mingyu demanded he keep him, but Minghao still finds it hard to accept Jun as his actual dog, still finds it hard to even just really _look_ at him. Minghao admits he has to hand it to Wonwoo – because the machinist designed Jun a bit too well, giving him dark curly fur that looks too real for it to be not and a sort of attitude that is too familiar to Minghao that it hurts. He assumes Mingyu had something to do about that, and he doesn’t know whether to resent his boyfriend for it or not.

“What’s his name?” The woman continues, apparently unaffected by Minghao’s lack of a reply to her earlier comment.

“Jun.” Minghao says, because he doesn’t feel like being an asshole and ignoring her.

“Ah,” She leans forward and watches the dogs interact with one another. Jun, as if noticing the movement immediately, turns to her and starts walking to her direction, sitting right between her feet and staring at her with his large eyes, expectant. She chuckles, and reaches down to pet him, gently running a hand through his fur and scratching his head, making Jun relax and tilt his head as he enjoys the feeling. “I haven’t met many dogs this behaved and this friendly.” She says as she pulls away. Jun lingers around her for a while, as if expecting a bit more, but with a wave of her hand, he turns around and leaves, rejoining the others in whatever they’re doing. “My own dog– he’s rowdy. Doesn’t listen. Always so active. I never get the chance to make him sit and just pet him while I relax. He always wants to do something, even when I don’t want to. It’s why I’m here in the first place, I guess.” She smiles. “You’ve raised yours well, kid.”

“Thank you.” Minghao says, and he means it. The way the woman talks and acts around him makes him feel normal, like he isn’t different or odd or anything that would make him the outcast he always feels like, always seen as. It lifts his mood, and when he leaves, he bows and thanks her one last time. She only smiles and waves a hand like she has done nothing.

 

“You look cute.” Mingyu remarks, when they meet up for lunch at the entrance of a small restaurant, right under the extended roof that would provide shade and protect them from any intense weather. There’s a scarf wrapped around Minghao’s neck, and he tries not to bury himself too much in the large jacket he wears, hands covered by mittens that he shoves into his pockets. The weather is a bit windy, since it’s rarely sunny in Seoul, so it makes sense to wear much more layers, but Minghao’s seems a bit too extreme to any passerby. Neither of them pays any mind to the looks others give, directed more at Minghao than his dog. When he sees his boyfriend still shivering, Mingyu immediately takes off his jacket to put around Minghao. The latter reluctantly accepts it with a grumble, because he doesn’t like being babied even though Mingyu is just being sensitive and caring.

“God, we should go to a fucking beach sometime.” Minghao says, mildly exasperated. 

“It’s still cold there though.” Mingyu replies with a chuckle. It’s then does he notice Jun, who trotted towards him to paw at his shoe. “Oh, hey there.” Jun jumps and the red collar shakes, the tags making a clinking sound as they clash against one another.

Mingyu kneels down, noticing it. He holds the tags with his fingers, reading the label. “Jun,” He says, reading the first tag before proceeding to the latter one. “Xu Minghao’s best friend. _Aw_.” He looks up at Minghao with a pout. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“Shut up.” Minghao kicks him. Mingyu whimpers, pretending to be hurt. “It came from the first dog tag, you shithead.”

Mingyu can tell; the tag’s quality is older, with some dirt and not as shiny. He remembers when it was just brand new, when it was worn by a different dog, when Minghao bought it with a smile under better weather, under better circumstances. That seemed so long ago, but Mingyu doesn’t ponder on that thought and leads Minghao inside to eat.

~::~

Mingyu confessed to Minghao on a New Year’s Eve, the first one the Chinese boy had spent in Seoul. They kissed as the fireworks erupted, right before a rainfall followed, and Minghao finds that moment so unforgettable because the atmosphere had been pleasant, a clear sky eventually lit with colors that came quick and left traces behind and the mutual feelings present, true and genuine. It had been more than a year and a half since that, and the only physical thing that reminds Minghao of that event is the CD Mingyu had given to him afterwards as a present, a composition made by Jihoon with Mingyu rapping for one of Minghao’s dance competitions. He hasn’t been to one in a while, he realizes. It’s really been so long since then.

~::~

There are things that Mingyu and Minghao don’t talk about, or _do_ talk about but end up never getting resolved, never addressing, despite their seemingly close relationship. Wen Junhui is one of them.

Mingyu had never met the man in person, had never talked to him either, and Minghao never reacted nor said anything whenever Mingyu mentioned him, acting as if the elder had said nothing, but Mingyu knows of him. Minghao may act as if Junhui doesn’t exist, but Mingyu knows he’s real. There are a few pictures of a man – a boy – that Mingyu doesn’t recognize that are spread out across the house, framed and lying in different places: hung by the stairwell wall, sitting by the living’s room’s tall table alongside other trinkets and photos that Minghao holds value to or forgets to discard, and one in his bedroom, a polaroid that always lies on his bedside table, unbothered and unnoticed but never touched nor moved all the same, unlike all the other bits of trash on the table that Minghao eventually sweeps away clean. Mingyu may not know Junhui, but he knows Minghao. Mingyu doesn’t know the face, but he knows he’s important – that Junhui is the boy who has left bits and pieces of himself in Minghao’s home, in his heart, and somehow Minghao cannot throw them away.

It’s Wonwoo who tells Mingyu about Junhui, even though Mingyu never directly asked. Maybe it’s a best friend thing – to be able to know what the other wants and needs before they even realize it. “Or because it’s just good gossip.” Wonwoo said, flashing Mingyu a wolfish grin. As if Wonwoo was ever one for those sorts of things. “Just something you should know about your boyfriend, like a warning or a heads-up.” He makes it sound like Minghao is problematic, which makes Mingyu’s blood boil a little.

“Was Junhui his boyfriend?” Mingyu asks instead, spinning one of the wheels hanging against the wall of Wonwoo’s shop. Wonwoo sits at the other end of the shop, back faced to Mingyu as the machinist works on his latest request while Mingyu wanders around.

The store looks small, despite how big the place actually is. Even though Seoul is so technologically advanced thanks to machinists like Wonwoo, there are light bulbs that fall down from his ceiling and hang dangerously low by the sides of the store, shining a dim light because they are small in number and old. It looks like a steampunk-themed shop, in Mingyu’s opinion, and he guesses that’s what his friend was going for. The entire place is generally depressing, with rusty shelves storing materials that look heavy and a bit like trash, most likely because Wonwoo recycles and still makes use of thrown away things. The store is as dirty and dark and as inviting as Wonwoo himself, but that doesn’t stop customers from entering. It doesn’t stop Mingyu either. 

“Nope.” Wonwoo says, turning around to point a finger at Mingyu. “That’s you.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “I’m being serious.”

“It’s your fault you phrase things wrongly.” Wonwoo says. “I don’t think so though. If they were, they weren’t exclusive enough for even their friends to know. Maybe they were dating, maybe they weren’t.” He gets back to work. “I do know that they were close though, since they both came from the same place, and things got really bad when Junhui left.”

“Of course it would.” Mingyu doesn’t blink at the fact that Wonwoo knows all these things about his boyfriend. There are things he already accepts, like the fact that Wonwoo has been friends with Minghao longer than Mingyu’s _known_ him, and that the elder knows things Mingyu doesn’t. The latter has never been jealous. Wonwoo shares these things to him, after all. But Mingyu doesn’t accept that Junhui had done to Minghao. There could be reasons for it, and there are different sorts of leaving, but it doesn’t make Mingyu’s anger subside. Leaving is still leaving– it still breaks a heart, and it broke Minghao’s, in this case.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo nods absentmindedly. “He kind of looked like how he looks right now– now that his dog died.” He explains. “You know, that dog was Junhui’s.” Wonwoo adds. “She helped Minghao a lot after what happened. That’s why he’s like this, because now _she’s_ gone.”

Mingyu is silent for a few seconds. And then, “He really likes dogs, doesn’t he?”

Wonwoo hums in agreement. “Your point?”

“How good are you at making things from scratch?”

Wonwoo grabs a tool and spins it. “What kind of best friend are you? I’m the best around Seoul. That’s why I have so many clients. I take a long time though.” He says. He looks at Mingyu. “What are you planning, Mingyu?”

“I’m going to help Minghao get over and forget Junhui and his dog.”

“Forget?”

“Forget that they ever existed in his life. So he wouldn’t be like this.”

“You don’t make things better by forgetting.” Wonwoo tells Mingyu.

“Sometimes it’s better to forget.”

(“He was the reason I still stay here.” Minghao had told Mingyu once. It was the first time Minghao had ever spoken about Junhui, as well as the last. “He was the reason I didn’t go back.”

“What’s stopping you now then?” Mingyu asks. “From coming back home. Why don’t you leave?”

“Because you’re here.” Minghao answers. “You’re the home I have right now.”)

It’s because Mingyu is Minghao’s home that he’s doing it. Because even if he can’t make Minghao better, he can at least make him feel like it.

Wonwoo sighs, resigned. “Just get your card ready. You know I charge a lot.”

~::~

Dancing studios are something Mingyu will never get used to. He finds it hard to comprehend how there can be so much space but also _not_ at the same time, how the place feels so refreshing and free even though it’s so small – especially this one. He is anything but a dancer, but he finds it relaxing, being here, like he’s in a special place that he was fortunate enough to be in and see.

Minghao doesn’t come here as often as he’s supposed to, _wants_ to, but Soonyoung, the owner of Hoshi’s Dance House (Minghao thinks it’s a terrible name, and _it is_ , but no one has the guts to tell Soonyoung that because he’s a bit too unironically proud of it) and a really fucking talented dancer, is kind and considerate enough to let it slide, aware of the situation present and more than willing to adjust to the conditions because he’s a good person, a good friend.

The way to the studio is far, especially since Mingyu usually comes from his apartment or workplace when he heads there, but he doesn’t mind. He actually enjoys picking Minghao up from Soonyoung’s small dance studio almost as much as Minghao loves going to it, and doesn’t mind walking such a long way in order to catch glimpses of Minghao practicing choreographies of different songs, ones that he hopes to perform one day but may never get the chance to.

“Where are we going?” Minghao asks, noticing how Mingyu takes a different route rather than the one they usually go through heading to Minghao’s house from the studio.

“To celebrate.” Mingyu replies.

“Celebrate what?”

“How good you are, of course!” Mingyu says. “You danced to a new song today, right? Soonyoung-hyung told me the details about it. You even made a new choreo yourself. They said it was really cool. Ah,” Mingyu groans. “I wish I saw the entire thing.”

“That was just the dongsaeng who said it was cool.” Minghao mutters.

“His name is Chan.” Mingyu informs him, not for the first time. “And he’s a prodigy who doesn’t compliment people so openly.”

Minghao pulls away his hand from Mingyu’s grip to shove it into his pocket, expression sour and grumpy. “It’s not like I’m going to get to ever perform it.”

Mingyu pouts. “Don’t be like that.” He says. “Have a little faith.” Minghao only grunts in response.

Because Minghao is a hardheaded as fuck existence, Mingyu snatches Minghao’s hands and continues dragging them towards his destination. Minghao puts up a bit of a fight, but he eventually relents, most likely because Mingyu himself doesn’t give up and because the younger is too exhausted from the day to start an argument

They take turns and pathways that Mingyu knows but Minghao doesn’t, and the sidewalks they walk on and the roads they cross are slightly damp from the rain that occurred while they were inside. They pass by shops and people that are unimportant and old to Mingyu, but entirely different and new to Minghao, who tries to absorb everything he sees as if he’ll never get another chance to do so. Mingyu tightens his grip on his boyfriend at the thought, and does his best to prevent Minghao from losing his balance.

“I don’t get why you’re in such a hurry.” Minghao says, getting them to stop for a second after Minghao had repeated hit Mingyu on the shoulder to get the latter to listen. They had walked the entire time, which made Minghao a little out of breath, since the way was farther than any place Minghao has gone to by foot. Or _ever_ , generally speaking. “Are we going to miss something?”

“No,” Mingyu shakes his head. “I just want to take you there as soon as possible.”

“Let me be alive to see it then.” He holds up a hand, panting. Minghao seems to notice the impatience and jumpiness that radiates off of Mingyu. “I’m tired. Pity your boyfriend and give him a break.”

“I’ll buy you dessert later.” Mingyu promises. “Plus, we’re already here.”

“We are?” Minghao asks, looking around.

“Yeah,” Mingyu’s hand find Minghao’s once more and tugs. “Just a few more steps.”

They stop when they’ve entered an empty playground, one that Minghao doesn’t recognize, void of people but not of activities to do. When the latter looks a bit farther, he sees a gatehouse leading to other houses, and guesses that this is a public playground really meant to be an exclusive one for those living in the village up ahead. Mingyu turns to stare at Minghao in expectancy, as if he’s anticipating Minghao’s replies.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” admits Minghao.

“I don’t expect you to say anything.” Mingyu says, though they both know that’s a lie.

“Okay.” Minghao replies. “So why are we here?”

“Because you’ve never been to a playground before.” Mingyu lets go of Minghao’s hand in order to head to the monkey bars and lift himself up, trying to balance, straining and strengthening his muscles as he climbs. Minghao tries not to watch.

“I have.” He grumbles. “Just not here.”

“That’s why.”

“What makes Seoul’s playground different from China’s?”

“Nothing, maybe.”

Minghao scrunches his nose up in discontent. “So what’s the point?”

Mingyu ignores him. “There’s a beach nearby, you know. In Incheon.” He explains. “It’s close to Seoul, so I wanted to take you there, because you said you wanted, but unfortunately, I don’t think we have enough credits to go there, or the time.” He hops down from the bars. “Which is why I took you here instead.”

Minghao stares at him for a few seconds in silence, as if he’s waiting for Mingyu to take back what he said or claim it to be some kind of joke. Then the younger scoffs when he realizes that his boyfriend is being serious. “As if that’s compensation. This is a fucking playground.” He says. Mingyu laughs, amused with Minghao’s behavior. Eventually, Minghao wordlessly sits on one of the swings and sways it a little, relaxing when the swing creaks but otherwise firmly carries his weight as it moves. “Thank you.” He says, after a pause, when Mingyu goes to sit beside him.

“Sure.” Mingyu says. “I don’t know why I took you here, honestly. The place just reminded me of my childhood. I thought it’d remind you of yours and, I don’t know, make things better.”

“You make it sound like things are going bad.”

“Are they?” Mingyu asks. “That’s what I’d like to know.”

Minghao doesn’t immediately reply, staring at Mingyu and giving him an unreadable look that the latter interprets as him getting mad at Mingyu for being sneaky enough to bring topics that they normally don’t talk about up. He smiles a bit smugly.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Minghao says, reading Mingyu’s mind. “You’re not that smart.” Mingyu pouts, but he isn’t surprised. Minghao has a knack for knowing what Mingyu is thinking. It’s probably a boyfriend thing, even though he’s been doing it when they weren’t dating yet.

“Minghao–”

“I’m not answering your question.” And the stubbornness that slips out of Minghao’s tone confirms the fact. Mingyu has never liked how hardheaded the other boy is, but he knows better than to try and pry further when he gets like this. Minghao refuses to talk afterwards, sort of shutting down and drifting because of Mingyu’s question and confrontation that most likely caught him off guard. The elder feels bad now, because he took Minghao here to cheer him up, not to make him quiet and closed off again.

“There’s sand.” Mingyu says, breaking the silence. “You can play with it and pretend we’re at the beach. Make some sandcastles. There are a few buckets and a shovel at the side.”

“Fuck you.” Minghao says, kicking Mingyu’s foot. At least he responded. “I’m not a kid. You can’t buy me with things like this.”

“Oh, but I can buy you through a trip to the beach?” Mingyu inquires, leaning closer to Minghao.

“Maybe.” Minghao says, shameless with agreeing to how shallow he is. “You’re really poor though, so I guess we’ll have to settle with public places.” He pushes himself back before Mingyu can make a move to kiss him and starts swinging, letting physics work its way with his movements and enjoying the strong wind that hits his face, even though he gets cold easily and can’t stand this kind of temperature and weather for long. Minghao closes his eyes. “You’re lucky I like you enough to put up with cheap ass places like this.”

“I am.” Mingyu agrees, unhesitant.

~::~

The bed and couch are mostly Minghao’s best friends. Despite Seoul being a big place for him to explore, he’s only been to some parts, and his house is the only actual place where he’s went through every inch and corner of. Minghao likes to think that it’s not a bad thing, but he knows better.

Not for the first time, he lies in his bed – it’s not the couch this time around, since he doesn’t have the energy to go downstairs at all – buried under the covers and staring at the small window that has a bit of sunlight slipping through despite the curtains drawn. He does the same thing downstairs by his living room, when he’s on the couch and not feeling it. Seoul is not known for its good weather, so seeing the sun up is such a rarity that everyone hates to miss it, Minghao included. He hates that he gets sick every time the sky is bright and pleasant, but all he can is stare outside with envy and hatred. Mingyu keeps on calling him a vampire because of that.

Minghao thinks about calling his boyfriend, at the thought of him. But his phone sits on the table right beside his bed and it seems too far to reach, so Minghao doesn’t want to bother. He doesn’t think he has the energy to talk anyway, and he doesn’t want to disturb Mingyu, who is probably working this time around.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been awake, staring at the window in silence and drowning in his fleeting thought that pass by a bit too quickly for Minghao to properly understand, not moving an inch, but it’s a soft weight suddenly resting above him that breaks him from his trance.

For a moment, Minghao thinks it’s Mingyu. Mingyu, who enters his house unannounced (then again, Minghao always leaves the door unlocked for him), who always brings him out-of-nowhere presents on whims just because they reminded him of Minghao in some way. Mingyu, the reason why Minghao has food in the refrigerator, the reason why Minghao bothers leaving the bed and couch even though they’re so comfy. Mingyu, the reason Minghao has motivation to pursue his dancing career even though there are so many times when it just seems to useless. Mingyu, the reason why Minghao still stays.

But it’s not Kim Mingyu. Minghao knows that. It’s Jun, even though Minghao doesn’t move his arm to brush through the fur. He can feel his wet nostril rest on his blanket and how it’s cold and staining the cloth, and how Jun paws at him, trying to get through the thick material to reach Minghao and motivate him to notice his dog.

“Hmm,” is all that leaves Minghao’s lips, even though he wants to tell Jun to go away. _I’m not in the mood. I can’t do it today_. He wants to say, but all he can do is move away from the dog in order to bury his face in his pillow further.

Jun starts whimpering, and he only stops when he decides to change tactics and go under Minghao’s blanket. He manages to lift the hem of his owner’s shirt and nudges him with his nose, causing Minghao to let out a whine at the feeling of something wet against his skin.

“No.” Minghao groans. “Stop it.” But Jun doesn’t listen, rubbing his face against Minghao and letting his fur tickle him.

“Fine.” Minghao huffs, fed up. He’s surprised that he has the energy to talk, but maybe it’s irritation that keeps him going. “I’m up, I’m up.” He sits up, head leaving the pillow and blanket leaving his side, and immediately he regrets it, suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion that threatens to put him down and knock him out for the next twenty hours. But Jun starts licking his hand, as if in encouragement, and that’s what keeps Minghao up for the next few minutes, trying to get rid of his headache.

When it subsides, Minghao turns to hang his feet off the bed. That action itself makes him tired already, once again, but Jun quickly jumps down and stares at him with his usual expectant and excited eyes, waiting for him to do something.

“You’re lucky that I have to feed you.” Minghao tells him, because he swears that’s the only reason he musters the energy to stand up and start walking, even though his bones ache and his mind is heavy and he really wants nothing to do than crawl back to bed and die there. Jun ran out of the junk lying on Minghao’s floor to eat a long time ago, and Minghao had to resort to collecting some of Wonwoo’s waste just to feed him, because as it turns out, Minghao, despite being the world’s worst at self-care, doesn’t have that much waste scattered around. At least most of Wonwoo’s trash composes of broken machines and tools, scrap metal and screws and plastic and other things that Jun likes to eat.

The dog follows Minghao’s every step as he moves around the ground floor, even though the boy’s movements are slower and heavier than usual, taking him longer to do things. Jun is patient, though his tail seems to say otherwise, taking a step every time Minghao does and stopping whenever Minghao does as well. It’s like he’s copying his every move, and Minghao can’t help but be endeared by that. Dogs really do make him soft.

“Here,” Minghao says, setting the food on the ground. Jun quickly runs to the bowl and starts eating, and Minghao sits on the couch, watching him. He can’t help but lie down, sinking into the cushions. It’s comfy, not like his bed, but he’s so used to resting here that he can slip into unconsciousness just as easily.

He’s only closed his eyes for a few seconds, but it seems that Jun sees it as something else, suddenly by his side and using his teeth to tug at the bottom of Minghao’s pajamas and pulling it, as if he’s trying to get Minghao up and notice him. Minghao kind of wants to cry, because that way he could let everything out and maybe he wouldn’t be as physically and emotionally exhausted as he is now, but he knows that it doesn’t work like that. It’s not something easy to get rid of, something you can kill or clean like washing clothes or dishes. It’s a stain that doesn’t go away no matter how many times Minghao scrubs it off. The least he can do is pretend it doesn’t exist, though sometimes even that doesn’t even work.

Jun growls as he continues pulling, and Minghao opens his eyes to get up and glare at his pet when he senses that the cloth is going to tear from the strength of the dog’s teeth. “Stop it.” He orders, but Jun doesn’t listen. “Yah,” He mutters in annoyance. “Why don’t you listen? What kind of dog doesn’t follow commands?” Jun doesn’t answer, only continues roughly tugging. “Stop it.”

Jun stops biting the edge of Minghao’s pants to take much more interest in a pillow lying down right below. Minghao’s eyes widen in surprise, wondering how the pillow – he recognizes it to be one of his favorites, a gift from Junhui before – got there, as he watches Jun drag it away with his teeth towards the veranda.

The door is slightly opened, and Jun attempts slipping through the small slit. While his body can fit, the pillow gives him a hard time, and he constantly tugs on it with determination to let it pass through. It gives Minghao the time to gather the energy to walk over to Jun to stop him, but by the time he reaches him, Jun has yanked hard enough to let the cushion out. Minghao makes an exasperated groan as he follows, sliding the veranda’s door fully open.

“You’re the worst dog ever.” Minghao says, snatching the pillow away from Jun, who doesn’t seem so attached to it anymore. The sunlight he saw earlier had disappeared, replaced by gray clouds and a pouring rain. It makes Minghao’s mood go down.

Instead of going back in though, he sits down on the floor, watching the droplets descend at a fast pace. At least he doesn’t have to water the plants, he thinks to himself. Not like he was planning on doing so today in the first place. Jun runs down to the garden excitedly, before turning to Minghao and yipping, tail wagging as he looks at his owner expectantly.

“What?” Minghao demands, trying to read Jun’s expression and what he wants him to do. The dog points his nose out at the garden, and Minghao makes a face. “Aish,” He says. “Why do you want to run in the rain?” He asks, as Jun walks up a few steps just to grab Minghao’s pants and start tugging at it again, inviting him out of the shade. Jun tugs a little harder, trying to use his all his strength to get Minghao to move. “Stay inside with me.” He tells him. “I can’t go out.”

As if understanding what Minghao says, Jun pulls away with a whimper, giving him a look that Minghao vaguely recognizes to be something like a pout. Then the upset expression fades away quickly, and he runs back out under the rain, as if forgetting Minghao since he can’t join. He thinks the gesture was meant to be offensive, so Minghao scowls, but he doesn’t do anything about it.

He watches Jun as the latter runs around the entire house over and over again, indifferent to the rain and basking in it. Then he stops right in front of Minghao to try and jump around to catch water droplets with his tongue. It reminds Minghao of how Junhui tried tasting snowflakes the first time they saw winter in Seoul by waiting for them to fall on his tongue before the former had told him that they were actually dirty and didn’t actually taste good, despite what fiction would make them believe. Minghao smiles wistfully at the memory, because it seemed so long ago.

“C’mere,” Minghao tells Jun, patting on the wooden floor to catch his attention. Jun comes running to him, this time obedient and excited– he’s _always_ excited, full of energy and wonder. It reminds him of Mingyu, and Minghao can’t also help but wish he had those traits as well – and he barks at Minghao while staring at him in anticipation, waiting for what his owner has in store for him.

It’s nothing, really. Minghao just starts stroking through his fur, notes that it’s wet but it won’t rust the metal Jun is made out of because Wonwoo really is a high-class machinist. Jun closes his eyes and revels in the touch, tongue still out but hanging limply and posture relaxed and calm. A few more scratches here and there to different parts of his body, Jun lies down and turns on his back, eyes opening to invite Minghao to rub his belly.

Minghao laughs at that, but indulges his dog nonetheless, hand briefly ruffling Jun’s head before trailing down to his stomach. Despite being made of metal, there is nothing tough or hard about Jun, and he seems like an actual dog. Jun makes a noise as Minghao scratches his belly, which is soft and delicate, motivating Minghao to use gentler touches. If he blocks out everything else and focuses merely on the task at hand, he can feel Jun’s heartbeat, beating slowly but steadily, surely, as if there is actual life in the invention made out of scratch and different artificial parts. Maybe it’s just an illusion conjured up by Minghao’s conscience – that Jun would have a heartbeat, when he isn’t even real, when he is manmade and actually synthetic, but he doesn’t feel like that’s the case. Jun feels alive, and it makes Minghao feel the same too. There is nothing fake about that.


	2. i haven't lost the happy memories to the rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back again with a new chapter~ it's short compared to the previous one, but bear with me, please. sorry it came a bit later than scheduled, but i hope it's still to your liking. this fic is really just a slow burn domestic fluffy fic with angst embedded into it every once in a while, so i apologize for how it may seem a bit boring, as well as say thank you to those who still choose to stick to it despite everything. 
> 
> chapter title is from downpour by ioi (of course) :)

Minghao can’t decide if being woken up by a pillow is better than being woken up by an alarm clock. Though it probably doesn’t matter since they all came consecutively.

He dreams about a man who could control the weather based on his feelings, and it always rained until he met a girl that supposedly made the sky shine with the sun. The entire idea itself was corny and cheesy, but in his dream, the weather was actually stormy and cloudy most of the time because the two bickered too often. It was funny, Minghao was greatly amused. But then it took a dark turn when the weather started random moments where it was bright and sunny one time, and then dark and rainy in the other, because the girl was about to leave to someplace else. Minghao doesn’t remember what happened afterwards, because while watching the scenes of the story unfold, he feels something hit the side of his head, and even though there’s nothing, even though the object was soft and didn’t hurt him at all, the force of the act is enough to make him blink and realize that everything is a dream, and he’s actually in his bed, conjuring up this entire plot with his imagination instead of witnessing it firsthand.

He keeps his eyes closed, willing himself back to sleep to know what happened next in the story, but suddenly the alarm clock rings loudly, and Minghao’s drowsiness fades completely to make room for the irritation. He murmurs nonsense to himself as he opens his eyes and reaches over to the alarm clock to turn it off, before he pauses and realizes that there’s a pillow he doesn’t remember being there lying on top and trying to suffocate him.

The moment Minghao throws the cushion aside with a load groan to reach over to turn off the small machine, something heavy jumps on him and he immediately loses his breath. When he turns his head, he’s met with hair tickling his face and a whiff of laundry soap meant to imitate the scent of flowers. _Mingyu_ , Minghao recognizes.

“Get off me.” He mutters, trying to wiggle free from the tight hug Mingyu engulfed him in. “You’re heavy as fuck.”

“Good morning to you, too.” Mingyu greets. The alarm clock is still ringing, so Minghao whines in annoyance, unable to turn it off because of his boyfriend. The latter seems to realize this though, so he reaches over to switch off the loud sound and pushes the clock away.

Minghao hears something fall and hit the ground, breaking at the moment of impact, and he can’t help but laugh because even without properly looking, he can see Mingyu’s surprised expression at what he accidentally did. “You fuck up.” Minghao comments. “I can’t believe you broke my alarm clock.”

“You hate it anyways.”

“Yeah, but I need it to wake me up whenever I have things to do.”

“I’ll wake you up from now on then.” Mingyu says, grinning widely at Minghao.

Minghao lightly shoves his face aside in response. “As if you’ll come here every morning just for that.” But he can imagine it, waking up every morning to Mingyu’s arms wrapped around him, or feeling his warmth beside him as they share this bed of Minghao’s made for two, or hearing him loudly move around downstairs as he tries fixing things up for breakfast and doing a bit of cleaning. It’s a pleasant thought, to have Mingyu practically live with Minghao, to have them be together as much as they can, even when they do nothing special or planned. It sounds too good to be true. “Would you come here at the crack ass of dawn just to remind me to do my morning jogs?” As if Minghao still does those. As if Minghao cared as much about maintaining his figure as he did before. His body can’t do what it used to do before, and Seoul has done anything but make things easier for him now that he’s tried making himself at home in its land. Still, it’s nice to mention it. It’s nice to pretend that things aren’t different.

“Sure.” Mingyu easily agrees. “I can prepare breakfast while you go exercise outside.” He tilts his head. “You can actually bring Jun with you when you go jogging; walk him and all. Kill two birds with one stone.”

“Sure.” Minghao imitates him.

Mingyu’s hand comes up to stroke Minghao’s cheek, and he frowns, before moving his hand up to his forehead. “You’re kind of warm. Are you okay?”

Minghao shrugs. “I’m always like that. It’s fine.” He says, dismissing it. “Seriously though, get off me. I can’t breathe.”

“Okay.” Reassured, Mingyu gives Minghao a loud and sloppy peck on the cheek before literally rolling away, taking up the free space beside his boyfriend on his bed. Minghao scowls in disgust, wiping the saliva away. Mingyu sighs in content. “Wow, these sheets are so comfy. I kinda wanna sleep now.”

“Don’t sleep when you just woke me up.” Minghao says, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck.

“I won’t, don’t worry.” Mingyu reassures him, eyes trained on the ceiling, lost in thought. “I didn’t come all the way here and wake you up just to _sleep_.”

“Why did you come here then?” Minghao asks, feet resting on his rug-covered floor, about to stand up.

Mingyu sits up. “We’re going out.”

“This early?” The other asks, incredulous. “It’s like, what– nine in the morning?”

“Precisely.” Mingyu says. “The weather is good, if you haven’t noticed.” Of course Minghao noticed. The sunlight is the only reason they can even see one another in Minghao’s dark and depressing bedroom. “But it’s too early, so at this hour, nobody would be dumb enough to go out.”

“So we should?”

“Of course!” Mingyu cheerfully replies. “We don’t know when an opportunity like this will come again. Think of it as this, Minghao,” He tells the latter, who looks absolutely unconvinced. “We have the chance to have _and_ enjoy your two favorite things in the world outside: good weather and zero people. Isn’t that great?”

“Those are not my two favorite things in the world.”

The elder waves a dismissive hand. “You already _have_ me, so it doesn’t count.”

“You know what I’d really enjoy? Kicking you out.”

“Aww.” Mingyu pouts. He never frowns. Sometimes Minghao wish he could. At least he wouldn’t look cute when doing so. At least Minghao wouldn’t be tempted to give in to whatever Mingyu wants. “It’s a great idea! I swear you won’t regret it. Please?”

“You told me those same things when you wanted me to take in Jun.” Minghao remarks.

“Yeah, and you love Jun.” Mingyu points out. “So you’ll love this.”

Minghao bites his lip. “Fine. But let’s have breakfast first.”

“We’re eating out.” Mingyu says, as Minghao gets up and starts to stretch.

“Why?”

“Because I checked your fridge earlier and found it practically empty.” Mingyu replies. “When was the last time you did your groceries?”

Minghao pauses to think about it. “I don’t know; maybe when you brought me groceries.”

“That was almost two months ago!”

Minghao shrugs.

Mingyu lets out a deep sigh before leaving the bed. “You really should take lessons on self-care, you know.” He takes Minghao’s hand before proceeding to drag him out of the room. “It’s official, babe. Today our plan is have breakfast and then go grocery shopping.”

Minghao wrinkles his nose. “Don’t call me babe, you idiot. You sound ridiculous.”

Mingyu pouts again. “I thought it sounded cute.”

 

They go to a grocery store that’s a lot farther than Minghao remembers it being. He hasn’t been to one recently, so maybe it’s not that valid, but from his memory, it didn’t require him to walk more and it didn’t look like this at all.

“I go here a lot. It’s actually closer to my place.” Mingyu tells him, the moment they enter and Minghao gets caught off guard by how different and new everything is. “It’s cheaper, that’s why I took you here. I don’t know how much cash you have on you.”

Minghao frowns. “Stop assuming that I’m poor just because I don’t have jobs as good as yours.” He says. “I have money, you know. You don’t have to keep on giving me a monthly allowance or something. I’m not some charity case.”

“It’s because I want to pretend that I’m living with you and paying for rent.”

“Why don’t you actually move in with me then?” Minghao mutters.

Doing grocery takes longer than it’s supposed to, even if there aren’t much people inside since it’s early in the morning, because Mingyu and Minghao argue over what to buy, the brand of the food, and the amount they plan to put in the cart. Most of what they buy is for Minghao, but the latter doesn’t fail to notice how Mingyu ends up slipping a few of his own favorite foods in because he wants to eat them when he visits his boyfriend. The total price also ends up being way higher than expected, but Mingyu doesn’t mind paying for it even if Minghao swats his hand away and insists that he pay for his own stuff. They end up the total cost in half, and Minghao whines to Mingyu about how heavy the bags they lug around are as they take the train to get back.

“My arms are sore now.” Minghao complains the moment they get back to his place and set the paper bags down. Mingyu immediately starts taking the food out and sorting them in their proper shelves.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the athletic one? You should be stronger.” Mingyu says. “You’re also supposed to be more muscular,” He pauses, as if he’s just realized this. He turns to Minghao, who stands beside him, unhelpfully only watching him work, and pokes his arms. “You’re so skinny though.”

“Screw off.” Minghao says, batting his finger away and scowling.

“Anyway,” says Mingyu, turning back to his work. “Help me fix all these groceries. The faster we finish this, the faster we get to eat lunch.”

“Didn’t we just eat though?” Minghao asks, but he does feel a bit hungry. He drags the bags closer to them and helps his boyfriend with unloading the food and putting them in their proper places. Occasionally, intentionally or not, they’d bump shoulders or stand side-by-side, and wouldn’t say a word. There isn’t any music playing in the background, and they don’t talk, but it’s peaceful nonetheless, being busy doing trivial things but doing it together. It feels awfully domestic. Minghao likes it. He thinks he could get used to it.

~::~

It’s hard to ignore looking up at the sky, as much as Minghao tries. For as long as he’s been in Seoul, he’s always been careful about the weather, conscious of even slightest of changes and taking the right measures in order for him to survive under them.

Right now, he watches as the sky slowly turns from its usual gray to black, indicating how much time has passed since Mingyu had called Minghao that he was leaving to meet him in their previously established designated area, where Minghao was already at since the start. It seemed so long ago, and technically it is, judging from how the cars slowly disappear from the roads and how his watch ticks with every second, its hands moving a bit too fast for his liking.

He was anxious and fidgety while waiting for the first few minutes ( _hours_ , who knows), tapping impatiently on his foot as he waited for Mingyu, wanting to move around and get going to do whatever his boyfriend had planned for them as soon as he can, but now, Minghao is resigned, stopped with the excessive moments and resorted to just silently staring at the roads that slowly empty out. He feels like he could get an existential crisis with the boredom he’s experienced, nothing to distract him from his thoughts. Not for the first time, he wishes he brought his phone with him.

“How long are you going to wait there?” A voice asks. It’s coming from behind him, Minghao realizes as he turns around, seeing a young blonde boy leaving the café Minghao stands in front of. “You’ve been standing there for hours, and even our café is going to close for the night.” There are keys dangling by his fingertips, and even though the stranger is dressed to leave, Minghao can still see the nametag peeking out of the jacket he wears. _Seungkwan_ , it says.

“I’m waiting for my boyfriend.” Minghao answers. “We agreed to meet here.”

“Hours ago, I believe.” Seungkwan says. “I don’t know him, but I think he deserves the title of World’s Shittiest Boyfriend for making you wait so long.”

Minghao can’t help but laugh in amusement at that. “Maybe, though I think it’s a normal thing between us. We both keep each other waiting.”

“I think you should just leave.” Seungkwan tells Minghao. “I mean, he probably already ditched you.” Minghao highly doubts that. Mingyu isn’t the type. “And besides,” The younger adds. “The weather may not be as still as this in a while.”

“Thanks.” Minghao says, nodding in understanding. “But I think I’m still going to wait. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

Seungkwan shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He says, keeping the keys in his pocket. “Goodnight.” He bows. “I hope he comes soon.” And with that, he goes on his way, leaving Minghao to stand alone by the sidewalk full of closed shops. There are only a few cars passing by the street, and Minghao wonders if he’ll still be here by the time they completely disappear. He doesn’t look up at the sky this time, but amidst the silence, he can tell and feel how clouds are starting to form in the previously clear sky.

Mingyu comes soon though. Minghao knows it’s him when he hears footsteps hurrying and getting louder, able to tell that it’s the boy’s he’s been waiting for without even glancing to his side yet. Mingyu runs and Minghao keeps his gaze directed on the vacant road, resisting the urge to turn to see his boyfriend, because he thinks something in him will crack, and while he doesn’t know what, specifically, he doesn’t want to find out.

“I’m super, super sorry I’m late.” Mingyu apologies, the words rushing out quickly the moment he stops running and pants by Minghao’s side. The younger swallows down the unpleasant feeling burning up within him. “I was actually trying to get tickets to a new movie they’re showing, but the line was so long, so I was only able to get them now.”

“It’s okay.” Minghao tells him, turning to Mingyu to show that he’s not angry. Mingyu smiles at that, clearly relieved but also a bit unsure. “I’m not mad.” Minghao’s not. He’s really not, even though he probably doesn’t look it.

Mingyu doesn’t tell him what movie they’re watching, saying it’s a surprise, and while Minghao still wants to know, he trusts Mingyu because the latter says he’ll like it. They eat dinner as they head to the movie house, consuming an easy-to-carry but sufficient enough meal to sustain them for the night. Minghao doesn’t know where the destination is, but it seems far, since he feels like they’ve been walking forever, and Mingyu doesn’t even look close to stopping.

“How long until we’re there?” Minghao asks.

“Just a few more blocks.” Mingyu replies. “I tried calling and texting you to meet someplace else, but since you forgot your phone, we couldn’t do that. We’ll be there in minutes.”

But Minghao has been tired for hours. He doesn’t know how long he can continue spending the night with Mingyu out in the streets doing things. While he loves having his boyfriend as company and loves going out because he doesn’t get to do it often, he can’t enjoy it right now. Not when he feels this exhausted, drained, and shitty. He doesn’t think he’ll last.

“Mingyu,” Minghao starts, but then the words die the moment an abrupt rainfall suddenly crashes down, the sudden pressure of droplets hitting them making them at loss for words. The water is light, little, but it still makes a heavy impact. The coughing comes just as quick, the air clogged up in Minghao’s lungs dying to come out. He shuts his eyes and crouches, releases it, unable to resist, and the sound is ugly and sickly, familiar.

“Fuck.” He hears Mingyu hiss, and suddenly a jacket rests on Minghao’s shoulders, sheltering him from the rain. Mingyu tugs his hand and leads him away, practically running away to find a dry location. Minghao’s coughs turn worse, despite him being protected.

All the shops by the streets are closed by now, so shelter is difficult to find. They don’t stop running, and Minghao lets Mingyu take control and bring him to wherever, too distracted with the constant hacking, trying to force something from his throat to come up even though there’s nothing.

Minghao doesn’t know how long his eyes were closed, or when he even closed them, but they flutter open when he hears no more sound of water droplets hitting him, when he doesn’t feel wet anymore. Instead, he hears a door slide shut and he finds himself back in his house, safe and sound.

“Thanks.” Minghao says, when Mingyu lifts the jacket from Minghao’s shoulder to hang it against the wall.

“Don’t thank me.” Mingyu tells him. “I– fuck,” He runs a hand through his hair, looking distressed and frustrated. “The night went wrong.”

Minghao is about to comfort him, but he sneezes instead. When he does it again, Mingyu grabs his hand and brings him to the living room, where he sets his boyfriend down on the couch to lie down as he drapes a blanket over him before briefly leaving to find other things. Minghao cuddles into the comforting cloth, trying to breathe and stay warm.

Mingyu eventually returns to hand him a warm cup of something, and Minghao drinks it carefully to try and ease the bitter cold feeling all over his body. “Milk?” Minghao asks after he’s relaxed enough to focus, when he feels a bit better, when he can catch his breath.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says. “I was going to give you coffee, but I don’t think that helps.”

“Thanks.”

“Seriously, don’t thank me.” Mingyu laughs, but it comes out as strained and not as positive as it’s supposed to be. “This is the least I can do.”

Minghao frowns, licking his lips to wipe off the milk on his face. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did so much things wrong.” Mingyu says. “Don’t try to deny it. I did. I kept you waiting for hours for something that was hard to get only for it to not even happen because of the weather.”

“It’s the thought that counts?” Minghao eventually replies, though he sounds uncertain with his own words. “And you can’t do anything about the weather, Mingyu.”

“Well, it’s not worth it if you’re like this. You got hit by the rain, Minghao, because of me. You’re gonna get fucking worse.”

“You can’t do anything about the weather, Mingyu.” Minghao repeats. “That’s not your fault. And it wasn’t a heavy rain,” Minghao adds. “It was just a drizzle.” But even he doesn’t like the implication behind it. A drizzle is so minor, but it doesn’t feel like that to Minghao when it actually happens, when he’s actually under it.  

“Everything else is.”

Minghao sighs, hating that Mingyu is upset and frustrated and isn’t getting over it, even though Minghao has. “Things like this happen. Life’s not perfect.” He says. “Not everything is going to go our way just because we planned for it ahead of time.”

“I don’t expect it to be perfect; I just want it to be good.” The other boy says.

Minghao pulls Mingyu down to the couch towards him, taking the boy by surprise. Mingyu falls on Minghao, who winces a bit, but he scoots a bit to the side for his boyfriend to have space of his own on the cushion before holding his hand and squeezing it. “I wasn’t happy a while ago, actually, but I am now. Or something like that. I’m okay.” Mingyu rests his head on Minghao’s shoulder. “I’m comfy. That should do for now, right?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu relents. “I guess.”

Minghao nods. “Let’s rest. I wanted to stay home anyway.”

“Okay.” Mingyu pauses. Minghao closes his eyes at the silence, about to rest. “What the fuck,” Minghao’s eyes open as Mingyu pulls away to press his hand against his boyfriend’s boyfriend. “You’re really hot right now. And not in the good way.” He stands up. “Wait here, I’m going to get a wet towel and medicine.”

Mingyu comes back quickly, carrying a wet towel, an entire pitcher of water, and a couple of pills that he makes Minghao immediately down even though the both of them know that it’s temporary and not enough to cure the real illness (nothing ever will be). Minghao bats Mingyu’s hand away when the latter tries to pat him in the back, because he doesn’t need the comfort. “‘M not a baby.” Minghao mutters and Mingyu pulls away completely.

“Are you sleepy?” He asks instead. “I think you should rest already, so you’ll get better quicker.”

“Stop babying me.” Minghao complains. “I don’t want to sleep. We don’t spend time together like this often, and who knows if you’ll still be here tomorrow?”

“I’ll still be here when you wake up. I won’t leave you just like that, without warning.” Mingyu reassures him. “And who says that we don’t do this often? We just don’t do it every day and night.”

“That’s my point.” Minghao grumbles. “Anyways, I’m not sleepy, and I don’t need to in order to get rid of the fever. Let me just stay here, and I’ll be fine soon.”

Mingyu sighs, but it’s a mostly fond, slightly exasperated one. “Do you want to watch a movie then? To make up for not being able to in the movie house.”

“Sure.” Minghao says. Mingyu pulls away to set the projector up, and Minghao fondly watches the other as he fixes things for the movie. He won’t deny that he found this day terrible, but they’re doing this, right now, and he feels good, despite everything, so all is well. They don’t do these things a lot, the simple yet pleasant activities that are normal for everyday couples but new for Mingyu and Minghao, who aren’t like the rest, so Minghao learns to appreciate them.

Mingyu hands him a bowl of popcorn (they each have their own because of different tastes and for large consumption – Mingyu knows Minghao well) and a thermos filled with water as he sits down beside him while the movie starts to play from the curtains, which they pulled shut in order to watch clearly. “You should get a proper screen, you know.” Mingyu tells him. “Or at least make the projector face the wall instead. It looks weird like this. This is a weird view.”

“Shut up.” Minghao says. “Don’t watch if you don’t like it.” Mingyu only laughs, snuggling closer to Minghao in response.

The movie isn’t a horror one, thankfully, but it’s incredibly cheesy, which may or may not makes Minghao want to vomit every few seconds because of how excessive it seems, though he doesn’t say anything, because Mingyu loves it, and that’s enough for the other boy. Halfway through the movie and dealing with feet exposed to the cold air of the house since they aren’t covered by the blanket wrapped around the both of them, Minghao feels his feet sink under a weight that gently lies on top of them, radiating warmth he did not know he craved. When he looks down, he sees that it’s Jun, to his surprise, soft and quiet and unmoving as he rests above Minghao’s feet.

“His breed is known for being lap dogs.” Mingyu says. “More of rugs, actually, from the long fur to the sort of lazy attitude. They’re for home, mostly, which is why I had Wonwoo-hyung design Jun like that.” That’s not only why, and both of them know it, though neither of them admit it aloud. “He’s supposed to keep you warm and comfy.”

“He’s doing a way better job than you, and you’re my boyfriend.” Minghao says, unable to resist taking a jab at Mingyu because banter is what they do best. The younger slips his foot out of Jun and uses it to pet him, stroking his fur since his hands can’t reach him. Jun seems to revel in the act, moving closer to Minghao’s touch. It makes his heart swell, grow ten times bigger.

“I’m better at doing other things.” Mingyu says, looking at Minghao with a wide grin and wagging eyebrows.

“Shut up and watch the fucking movie.”

They can hear the strong rain that continues to fall, but they are safe inside. Together.


	3. because i love you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was supposed to update this way earlier, but i lost track of time :P some notes about this chapter: there is smut, though it's nothing /extremely/ graphic or kinky. you can skip it, if it makes you uncomfortable. also, i introduced some of the other seventeen members here - way more than i expected to, just to provide some more background on who mingyu is as a person, outside of his life with minghao. there are also other seventeen ships present. they're only hinted and offhandedly mentioned, so don't worry. i'd put them in the tags, but i always feel like adding characters and ships that aren't main is kind of unfair to those who actually do ship that pairing, who look forward to reading fic about their otp only to find that it's /not/ really about them, which is why my tags are minimum. 
> 
> anyways, i hope you enjoy this chapter too. i think the real angst/point of this fic comes in the next chapter, so just stay tuned for that, if you still have the patience for it. and thank you to those who have stuck to this fic despite its extremely slow burn. i am very grateful. 
> 
> don't wanna cry lyrics again for this chapter's title.

It’s undeniably lust that triggers it; during the times they do something seemingly normal until one of them does something that _isn’t_ , a bit too sexual or hinting close to it. Or maybe it’s when they’re bickering, as they usually do, but then it gets a bit too heated and suddenly they’re making out before they even realize what’s happening. It’s always rushed, rough (but not _too_ rough; they know their boundaries) and challenging because they know each other so well that they try and push past one another’s limits, see how far they can go before they’re put down in the best way possible. Mingyu is best at testing Minghao’s patience and messing with it while Minghao has always gotten his revenge through being unforgiving. It’s like a contest. It’s fun, it’s their thing. They love it.

But as much as they love it, they don’t do it often. Minghao usually isn’t in the mood for it and his body isn’t either, and Mingyu is either too busy working or being a softie to be something tougher. And when they’re together, they’d rather do other things than hump or fuck. Sex it their outlet for stress, but there are other alternatives, like cuddling or doing things for one another that doesn’t involve being naked. It’s alright for them; they don’t consider sex to be such a vital part of their lives – just something fun to do, something occasionally craved and needed but not most of the time.

This time though, everything is different. They find themselves by Minghao’s bed in his room but they aren’t in a hurry, aren’t spewing aggressive insults to rile one another up or messing up the bed or their clothes. They go slow, taking off what they wear and tossing them aside while they only focus on one another, the light coming from the lamp by the small desk beside the bed reflecting the smiles and kisses they direct at each other. They even laugh when Minghao accidentally brushes a part of Mingyu’s skin a bit too softly and it tickles the latter, or when Mingyu says something cheesy halfway through kissing him that makes Minghao hit him with the pillow by his side, and everything is steady, calm and relaxing and peaceful. Mingyu even starts whining when Minghao temporarily leaves the bed to fold their clothes and place them neatly by the desk.

“You’re absolutely terrible at this.” Minghao tells Mingyu later on, when the latter pushes in.

Mingyu hums, too busy staring at Minghao’s face to really listen. “You said I was great last week.”

“You weren’t so slow last week.” The other says, before pausing. “I can’t believe we did it only last week.”

“That’s pretty recent, isn’t it?” Mingyu inquires, starting to thrust. “At least we didn’t use up all the lube that time.”

“I hate your lube.”

Mingyu pouts. “But it’s flavored! It even has a smell!”

“That’s precisely why.” Minghao groans. Either from the pleasure or from annoyance at Mingyu talking while they’re doing sex, he doesn’t even know. “You’re making my dick limp from all the talking. Go faster, you fucker.”

“Fine.” Mingyu obeys, quickening his pace, and Minghao’s breath stutters.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Minghao mutters. “Like that. Just like that.”

Mingyu gives him a quick peck before continuing with his task, ceasing his chatter to focus on getting Minghao over the edge. He’s silent, but the moans that Minghao releases make up for it. It’s etiquette (and maybe out of habit) to make Minghao always cum before him. He likes seeing his boyfriend’s reaction, like taking in every bit of detail of how he looks and how he sounds. While it’s usually a loud groan or a silent scream, this time, it’s a soft moan. Mingyu finds it hot all the same. The bedsheets get stained and Mingyu wonders if Minghao will be too tired to change it tonight afterwards.

Not wanting his boyfriend to get hurt, Mingyu pulls out while Minghao is still coming down from his high and starts touching himself to reach his own release. It’s sensitive, from being untouched and from the feeling of moving around inside Minghao’s walls, and Mingyu can’t help but hiss in relief when his hand moves down to touch his member.

“Fuck. _Wait_ , you impatient bastard.” He hears Minghao say, and before Mingyu can say anything, his hands are replaced by Minghao’s mouth, warm and welcoming as he starts to suck on his cock, hollowing his cheeks and making full use of his tongue. Mingyu resists grabbing Minghao by the hair and taking control, letting his boyfriend go at his own pace and do the work instead. He doesn’t intend to choke him, but Minghao seems to want to challenge himself, pushing Mingyu’s member further in until it reaches the back of his throat. He doesn’t gag, surprisingly, and Mingyu wonders if Minghao practiced.

Mingyu cums hard when Minghao does this thing with his tongue – he’ll have to ask about it later – and the moan he lets out is embarrassing loud, though that only seems to motivate Minghao to suck harder, to swallow in as much as he can even though Mingyu never asks him to do that. Minghao pulls away after Mingyu’s done, and immediately flops back down onto the bed, turning his head to spit out the remaining cum that reside in his mouth. Mingyu moves on top of Minghao to wipe away the remaining semen with his thumb, brushing against his swollen lips in the process, before wiping it on the bedsheets. “Tired?” He asks, face directly above Minghao’s. “We can rest.”

“You punk,” Minghao says, noticing what Mingyu did. “I saw that.”

Mingyu only smiles. “What do you wanna do about it?”

“Clean it.” Minghao blinks. “I know what that cheeky tone of yours means. If you’re trying to seduce me to do other stuff, it’s not working. My dick is done for the day.”

“I wasn’t insinuating anything.”

“Wow, big word.” Mingyu pouts at this. Minghao doesn’t notice and closes his eyes instead.

“Are you going to sleep?” Mingyu asks him, burying his head into his boyfriend’s bare shoulder.

“Hmm, actually– _fuck_ ,” Minghao opens his eyes and scowls. “Are you licking my shoulder? You’re so gross.”

Mingyu laughs. Minghao huffs in annoyance. “I was going to sleep until you did that.” He says. “Now you just reminded me that we have to clean the sheets. I don’t want to wake up to them being crusty from cum.” Minghao pushes Mingyu away to get up and start cleaning up, grabbing the blanket. Mingyu gets to work as well, heading towards the clothes to give to Minghao before they head to the bathroom to wash up.

He only takes a few steps before falling with a loud _thump,_ followed by a sort of familiar squeaky sound, and Minghao looks over in alarm, immediately ceasing what he was doing. “Mingyu? What happened?”

“Jun happened.” Mingyu groans. When Minghao looks down, he does see Jun, staring at Minghao with his tongue out before turning back to Mingyu and barking at him. Beneath Jun’s paw is one of the rubber balls Minghao owns, squeaky and surprisingly still in usable shape despite the dog’s tendency to destroy all his other toys with a mere bite.

“Why is he here?”

“That’s what I was wondering.” Mingyu says, getting up. “How long have you been in here, buddy?” He asks, standing up. “The door was closed the whole time. Did you follow us when we went up here, or were you in the room the entire time?”

“Gross.” Minghao says. “Stop talking, I don’t want to think about Jun being here while we fucked.”

“At least he didn’t ruin the mood.” Mingyu says, walking over to the clothes. He throws them to Minghao, who catches them as he leaves the bed as well.

“By barking? By walking in on us?” Minghao inquires. “He’s a dog.”

“Imagine if he was a kid,” Mingyu laughs in amusement at the idea. “That’d be a real problem.”

“ _Ugh_.” Minghao scrunches his nose up. “That’d be so annoying.”

“Of course you’d think kids are annoying.” Mingyu says. “But they’re kids. Setting aside the walking in on us, they’d be really amazing to have.”

“I still don’t want them.”

“Even if it’s with me? I think we’d make pretty good parents.”

Minghao gives Mingyu a look, but the latter can see the conflict in the younger’s eyes. “As if we’ll live long enough to experience that.”

Mingyu walks towards Minghao and holds his hand, bringing it up to his mouth for him to kiss. “Have a little faith in us, won’t you?” He squeezes his hand tight. Jun rubs his face against Minghao’s bare foot, and Minghao can’t help but smile. “We’ll make it.”

Outside, the rain starts to dissipate.

~::~

Minghao isn’t replying to his texts.

It isn’t anything especially odd, because Mingyu usually sends them super randomly and Minghao isn’t the type who replies a lot, too engrossed and busy doing other things. It’s not that Mingyu is clingy or paranoid, but he feels like there’s something off about today, and he had the sudden urge to text Minghao to know if he’s okay. He sent variations of the exact same message five times, but Minghao hasn’t even seen _one_. It’s nothing unusual, but Mingyu is still tense. He ends up staring at his phone during break longer than he means to, waiting for an answer that he doesn’t think will come. He _could_ call, but Minghao is normally too lazy to talk if they’re not face-to-face. And Mingyu might end up interrupting something important, which is what he doesn’t want to happen.

“Mingyu,” A voice snaps, and he looks up to see Jihoon practically glaring down at him. Mingyu had went to a random corner in some random room that had a plug to charge his phone, sat down on the floor, and forgot that he was on a short break. Jihoon is really short, but he makes up for it by being intimidating as fuck, and it doesn’t help that he’s towering over Mingyu just because the latter is seated down on the ground. “Break ended five minutes ago.”

“Sorry, hyung.” He apologizes, sheepish. Jihoon sighs.

“Anyways, get back to the recording studio. You have to finish one more part with Seungcheol-hyung before we finish up and start discussing the music video.”

“Okay.” Mingyu says, and stands up to follow the elder back. 

Contrary to Jihoon’s orders to quickly get back to work, when they reach the studio, Seungcheol and Jihoon start talking about how they’ll rap the last part, and end up discussing (read: arguing) about how to do it. Mingyu, even though he plays a part in the song production, says nothing, because as much close as he is with his hyungs, he knows better to say something that might get him in trouble. Besides, the two always interact in a way that doesn’t invite outsiders in, Mingyu included. It’s special, different, even if it’s mostly bickering. Sometimes Mingyu even wonders why Jihoon wants him as a regular rapper for his songs when he already has Seungcheol, but the younger isn’t complaining. He likes what he does, and he likes getting paid for it. 

Thankfully, they get the job done at the end. When Mingyu listens to the entire song, he realizes he doesn’t like it as much as their previous songs, due to the way they performed it _and_ the way it was generally made, but it’s still good. Unlike Mingyu though, who doesn’t voice his thoughts aloud because he’s a grateful kid, Seungcheol blatantly states how it isn’t as good as their previous mixtape, and that he doesn’t think that this song is food enough to serve as their comeback title song for their new album in the making. He and Jihoon end up fighting again about it, and Mingyu drowns out their entire argument. He leaves during lunch to head off to his other job, Jihoon telling him as always that he’ll call soon to update him on when they’ll do the music video. Mingyu tells Jihoon in reply to enjoy his regular lunch date with Seungcheol that never fails to happen despite all the disputes they have about work or personal matters (they share a lot of those). Jihoon smacks him in the back of the head for that.

Minghao still doesn’t reply during lunch, even when Mingyu tries calling him a few times as he eats. He’s worried, but he tries not to let it get to him, because he doesn’t know what he’s so angsty in the first place. He just knows that he needs to talk to Minghao to calm himself down, but he should also try to not make a big deal out of it if his boyfriend is too busy to ease his anxiousness.

He finishes up quickly and heads to the Yoon Institute, because he needs to take the train to get there and Yoon Jeonghan, a beauty to both men and women with even more beautiful designs, likes to start early. He checks himself out in the bathroom right before entering the building to check if his clothes are clean and smooth, if his face has no dirt and if his hair is fixed and looking the way Jeonghan wants it. He doesn’t want a fuss to be the first thing he hears from Jeonghan’s lips, because the elder gets stressed too easily over such minor things. “Always look your best even when we’re going to make you look better later on.” Jeonghan told Mingyu, and the latter had taken it to heart.

Thankfully, Jeonghan – his hair is blonde, and it makes him look ten times younger and more innocent than he really is – doesn’t have any especially tight-fitting outfits for Mingyu to wear. The elder wants to focus on coats this time around, and presents Mingyu an entire rack of them that he wants Mingyu dressed in as he walks down the small stage set up for practice.

“These don’t have hoods.” Mingyu notes, during the fifth outfit he showcases to Jeonghan.

The latter hums, leaning back on the chair right in front of the small runway stage with legs crossed. “Your point?”

“Wouldn’t it be more convenient to put them? The coat’s design and thickness is good for the cold and other bad weathers, but there’s nothing to protect anyone from the rain.” He explains. “If you think a hood sewn into it will look ugly, then maybe you can make it detachable.”

“I don’t remember you being my fashion advisor.” Jeonghan remarks, drumming his fingers against his arm. “But I’ll take note of it.” He eventually agrees. “And who ever said that it’s for Seoul consumers?”

Mingyu furrows his brows. “It’s not?”

“Nope.” Jeonghan says, taking out a clipboard from under the chair and writing on it. “They’re going to be shipped to Europe.”

“Why?”

“For Jisoo, of course!” Jeonghan says, with too much enthusiasm. “Tell me, which coat do you think he’d like better: the third or the one you’re wearing right now?”

“The third.” Mingyu answers immediately, because the one he has one feels more uncomfortable, stiff, and itchy. “Are these _all_ for Jisoo-hyung?”

Jeonghan nods, attention still on the clipboard. “It’d be nice to know which coats he’d prefer though, so I could send those earlier. I want to send him a gift to congratulate him on his new job in London.” He explains. “We haven’t seen in each other in forever, you know, so I want to surprise him with something nice even though I can’t give it to him physically.”

“That’s sweet.” Mingyu says, and he means it. He thinks of Minghao, for a brief moment. “But don’t you think it’s a bit much? Won’t you lose a lot of credits if you dedicate this _entire_ collection to hyung?”

The other waves a hand, clearly not bothered with the idea. “He can sell what he doesn’t like. Europe likes my products, especially when they’re worn by him. It’s the thought that counts.” He says. “Besides,” Jeonghan finally looks up. “Who said that this is the only collection I prepared? There’s more for you to try on after this one.” He smiles a not-so-pleasant smile. “I’m planning to work you to the bone, Mingyu-ah.”

Mingyu sighs, because Jeonghan says this a lot.

 

It’s four in the afternoon by the time Mingyu finishes, which is earlier than the usual times he finishes work. Still, he’s never been this tired before, and it doesn’t help that he’s still worried about Minghao, who hasn’t responded to his texts or calls the entire day. He half-contemplates on actually calling the police, but then Mingyu realizes he should check his house before doing anything supposedly rash.

He passes by a flower shop on his way to Minghao’s place, and his eyes catch the bellflowers that sit by the window, untouched and fresh. Mingyu considers stopping to buy Minghao one, if not an entire bouquet, because it reminds Mingyu of that time Minghao dyed his hair a light purple shade on time and how soft it made his smiles look, therefore making Mingyu soft on the inside as well. And then Mingyu panics, because he remembers why he’s going to Minghao’s in the first place, and he hurries, because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

“Minghao,” Mingyu says loudly, by the time he reaches Minghao’s place, opening the door and stepping inside. He expects to hear silence, if not a reply, in case Minghao really is, in fact, missing, and Mingyu was right in his earlier idea to contact the police and worry to death about the other’s well-being.

What he doesn’t expect to hear is Jun’s name constantly bouncing off the walls, heard throughout the entire area and varying in volume. Mingyu immediately heads upstairs, towards where Minghao’s voice is coming from. He finds his boyfriend in the storage room, where he keeps all the belongings he’s supposed to donate but never has the time or chance to, digging through all his junk while calling out his dog’s name. It makes Mingyu’s worry increase tenfold, because Minghao never goes there. The dust is bad for his health and he’s unsettled with how rushed Minghao seems when he picks up things and either pushes or throws them aside like they aren’t important, like he and Mingyu hadn’t dedicated a whole week just sorting all those things out and deciding to keep it that way to avoid a mess. Minghao looks distressed too, and that’s what has most of Mingyu’s attention.

“Minghao,” Mingyu says again. “What happened?”

“I can’t–” Minghao doesn’t stop moving, but his breath hitches as he tries explaining things to Mingyu. “I can’t find Jun.”

“What?”

“I can’t find him.” Minghao rushes out, clearly anxious. “He’s not in the fucking house, Mingyu.”

“Are you sure?” Mingyu frowns. “Maybe he’s hiding in one of the rooms. Or he’s moving around a lot so you can’t find him so quickly.”

“I’m looking everywhere. I’ve _looked_ everywhere. He’s really not here.” Minghao says. “I swear. I’ve been looking for him the entire day.” Mingyu can tell, from the way Minghao’s acting, but he doesn’t want to point it out, not when his boyfriend is so high-strung. Approaching him, Mingyu slowly pulls him out of the storage room before Minghao freaks out in a cramped room. 

“When was the last time you saw him? He couldn’t have gotten far, if he really left.”

“Last night. He was gone when I woke up this morning.” Minghao bites his lip nervously. “Fuck. I don’t know where he is. _Shit_.” He hisses, running a hand through his hair. “I’m worried.”

“I’m sure we’ll find him.” Mingyu reassures him, pulling Minghao into a tight hug. “I don’t think Jun could’ve gotten far. He’s a robot, after all. And Wonwoo-hyung should have a tracker placed on Jun. Don’t panic.”

Minghao seems to calm down a bit at Mingyu’s words, breaths slowly becoming steady. “O-okay,” He stutters. “Okay.”

Mingyu nods, tightening his grip on Minghao for a second to comfort him before letting go. “He also has a collar on, right? The dog tags should help others bring him back here.”

But Minghao trembles, shaking his head as he opens his hand to Mingyu, revealing familiar metal tags with engraved writing on them. “I found this on the floor. That’s when I realized he was gone.”

 _Fuck._ Mingyu thinks. _That’s bad._ But he doesn’t show Minghao his worry. “We’ll find him. I promise.”

Mingyu leaves right after that, heading to Wonwoo’s workshop and leaving Minghao behind. At first, the latter refused, insistent on going with Mingyu, but he was eventually convinced the stay in the house in case Jun turns out to still be there. There’s also the fact that Mingyu doesn’t want Minghao going out while being so stressed, because that takes such a toll on his body, but again, Minghao doesn’t need to know that. He’d only get mad at Mingyu for being so overprotective and particular.

It’s easier for Mingyu to let his guard down when he’s not with Minghao anymore, easier to lose the façade of being the strong one, easier for him to let out a shaky breath and reveal his own uncertainty, despite what he told Minghao earlier. He isn’t a hundred percent sure that Wonwoo placed a tracker on Jun, though he usually does that to his other creations that have free movement and control, but Mingyu hopes he does. It’s worse that Jun isn’t an actual dog, because besides being mistaken for a street dog and taken away, he might also be labeled as a faulty invention that ran away and destroyed by waste collectors, and Mingyu wants anything but that to happen.

 

Wonwoo’s head snaps upwards when he hears the bell by the door to his shop chime, but he immediately relaxes when he finds out who entered. “Ah, Mingyu-ah,” He says. “I was just about to close for the day.” Mingyu could tell, since Wonwoo isn’t wearing his lousy, stained apron and thick, worn out gloves that he should really replace before holes start forming like he usually is. “You’re not normally here this early. Do you need something?”

“Did you put a tracker on Jun?” Mingyu asks immediately. “The dog I had you make for Minghao.”

“The dog?” Wonwoo makes a face, thinking to himself. Then he shakes his head. “I don’t put trackers on inventions made for clients. It’s against the contract.”

“Fuck.”

“Why?”

“The dog’s gone.” Mingyu explains. “He disappeared, and Minghao can’t find him.”

Wonwoo frowns. “How long was he gone?”

“Since this morning, apparently.”

Wonwoo looks at the clock. “He’s a goner then.”

That gets Mingyu’s attention. “Why?”

“I built that dog making sure that it only stayed by its owner’s side. I even programmed it with Minghao’s and your scent to make sure of that, so it’s not supposed to go anywhere unless order to or if you’re there.” Wonwoo says. “The fact that it ran away means it somehow overwrote the command and decided to find other scents and things to stay for, not yours or Minghao’s anymore.” He cracks a small amused smile at the thought. “Guess it developed a will of its own. First time that ever happened with my inventions.”

“ _Shit_.” Mingyu hisses. “So that’s it? What do I do now?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “You can still try looking for it– I don’t think that’s a hopeless cause, but you have a really slim chance of finding it. Seoul is big and that dog is exploring every inch of it for the first time. I highly doubt it’ll sit still and wait for you to come to it.” He pauses, thinking. “ _You_ can wait for it instead, though I don’t know if it’ll help much. Who knows, maybe it’ll go back to you on its own.”

But Mingyu can’t wait for Jun to wander around for a while before deciding to go back to him, to Minghao. He can’t wait. It’s a waste of time, and he’s done so much of that already. He scowls. He doesn’t want to tell Minghao that they can’t find Jun, but he can’t return without having to give him an explanation. And he can’t lie to him. Mingyu can do anything but that.

So he just runs out, leaving the workshop and his friend behind. Wonwoo merely watches and wonders what Mingyu’s going to do now.

~::~

The first time Mingyu went to Hoshi’s Dance House, he was a younger, obedient, enthusiastic amateur model working for Jeonghan, a recent high-class fashion designer making his way into the seat of high society along with his sort-of-foreign fiancé, Jisoo, an ex-bachelor known to make both girls and guys swoon with his manners, charms, appearance, and knowledge about multiple countries in terms of both language and culture. Intimidated by all these facts, Kim Mingyu was a boy who genuinely at awe with these people who agreed to hire him and was more than willing to get on their good side, which is why he stands in front of a small dance studio picking up Jeonghan’s adopted little brother, Chan. Back then, Mingyu didn’t know a Xu Minghao. 

It’s not hard to find Chan, since the people inside the studio aren’t a lot, and there aren’t a lot who are as small as he is. Mingyu, though, doesn’t immediately call Chan’s attention, seeing the latter too into his craft and making the older losing the heart to interrupt him midway and cause him to lose that look of sincerity and enjoyment clearly present in his features. And because of that lanky boy that dances with Chan and all the others.

He catches Mingyu’s eye not because he dances that special, or because he looks particularly different when he does. The stranger looks normal, kind of endearing, with his cute nose and ridiculously curly hair, possible to be hot but not making an effort to be. He dances well, but he isn’t as young as the other dancers or as Chan, so he’s not that extraordinary, and he isn’t as obviously good as the one in the center, the one who seems to take control of the way the group moves, the one who seems too talented to just dance in a small place like this.

It’s the feeling Mingyu gets from him, as he stares at the entire group from the mirror in front of them, at the boy, specifically. He’s got that determined look on his face, one that makes him look stiff but says that he’s willing to do anything to reach his goal, no matter how impossible it may be. It’s a good look him, and it makes him intriguing. Mingyu hasn’t seen a lot of people who wear their heart on their sleeve like that. He isn’t that good at reading people, so he could be wrong, but it’s the same look he sees Jihoon-hyung have sometimes, because he’s got the talent and potential but not enough compared to his peers and prodigies all in the same industry as him, so he makes up for it with twice as much as hard work and grit. 

“Who’s the lanky one?” Mingyu asks Chan, the moment they leave the studio and start to head to the Yoon Institute.

“The one with poodle hair?” Chan says. Mingyu doesn’t expect that kind of answer from Chan, but he nods, because he got the boy Mingyu was asking for right anyways. “That’s Minghao-hyung. I don’t know him that well, or talk to him, though he doesn’t really talk a lot generally, but I do know that he’s been there for a long time, and that he’s not from here.”

“A foreigner then?”

Chan hums. “He’s the same age as you, hyung.”

“He dances well.” Mingyu comments, after a bit of silence.

Chan quickly nods in agreement. “He’s supposed to be one of the best out of the group, but I don’t know, he never looks happy after dance practice.” He pauses. “Or maybe it’s not that.” Mingyu gives the other a questioning gaze, wondering what Chan is trying to say. “Maybe it’s not related to dancing; I can’t really explain it, but he never looks happy when we’re done and about to leave. He’s not sad either though– just not happy.”

Mingyu nods, because he doesn’t know what else to do, to say, and they continue making their way to their destination in peaceful silence.

 

Jeonghan only asks Mingyu to pick Chan up once, but Mingyu continually offers to do the next few times anyway. When the fashion designer is mindlessly talking with Jisoo about plans that somehow involve Chan or looking through his schedules and seeing his name there, or every time fetching his sibling from the dance studio comes up in _things to do_ , Mingyu is coincidentally in the room and he suddenly interrupts, suggests that he can go and do the errand instead. It catches Jeonghan off guard, because he’s never seen Mingyu so willing to do something that’s such a hassle, and it makes him immediately suspicious at the same time, suspecting that Mingyu’s only doing this to get Jeonghan’s favor or to get something out of it. Not that it’s a bad thing, Jeonghan is actually thoroughly impressed that Mingyu has actually taken up this tactic, despite how old and common it is. The model-in-making does seem a bit too genuinely enthusiastic to do the mundane task though, but the elder chooses not to point it out or ask about it. Jisoo is another story.

“What’s got you so happy lately?” Jisoo asks Mingyu one time, in the rare moments where he’s actually with them the entire day in person. The three of them are inside Jeonghan’s office, Jisoo by the couch, Jeonghan by his desk, looking through papers, and Mingyu trying to sort them out before his boss tells him he needs them. Mingyu looks at the other in confusion and slight surprise for suddenly being asked. Jisoo corrects his phrasing quickly, realizing how it sounds. “You just seem a bit more relaxed and enthusiastic lately. I was just wondering if anything good happened lately.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Mingyu says, briefly pausing in his work to look at Jisoo and tell him this. The latter clearly doesn’t buy it.

“Mingyu-yah,” Jeonghan calls out, still buried in the papers piled up on his table. He adjusts his glasses. “Stop chattering and give me the designs on top of the red portfolio.” And Mingyu does as ordered, trying to pick up the scattered papers and trinkets on the floor as he tries to get what Jeonghan asked for. He really has to clean up the office sometime; otherwise someone might trip and get hurt. Or worse, lose something important.

Jisoo watches the two in silence before shrugging. “You became like that after picking up Chan a lot.” He continues. “Does that have anything to do with anything?”

“What is this, an interrogation?” Jeonghan mutters, a bit annoyed, even though his fiancé isn’t talking to him. But Jeonghan doesn’t stop Jisoo or ask Mingyu of anything else. 

“No.” answers Mingyu. “I just find is relaxing to walk around Seoul, and having Chan for company makes things better, that’s all. It’s really nothing, Jisoo-sshi.”

It’s not a lie, per say, but it’s not the truth either. Mingyu respects the two of them greatly, and they’re both really nice to him (even though Jeonghan doesn’t show it as much as Jisoo), but he isn’t close enough with them to share information that he thinks is personal. He also doesn’t think it’s that important, so it isn’t worth mentioning even offhandedly. He can tell Jisoo still doesn’t believe him though, so he suppresses biting his lip and anticipates the further questioning.

Except Jisoo doesn’t do that. Instead, he says, “Call me hyung, Mingyu. I like you a lot.” A pause. “And Jeonghan too, so call him hyung as well.”

“ _Jisoo_.” Jeonghan hisses, giving the other a pointed look. The latter only laughs, unaffected by his lover’s death glare.  

“It’d be nice for you to have a trustworthy dongsaeng, you know.” Jisoo tells him with upmost seriousness. “Most of your employees are scared of you. You rarely talk to them out of work, and you don’t really make an effort to be nice to them. There’s no guarantee that any of them would stay, making none of them reliable. He, however, seems to be a keeper.” He looks at Mingyu and nods in approval before turning back to Jeonghan. “He’s the only young one who’s still here and sane despite working under your attitude. Chan? He doesn’t count, and he can barely stand you. I would know. He often comes to me to rant about you.”

“Shut up. Chan loves me.” Jeonghan protests, though petulant.

Jisoo turns back to Mingyu, giving him a charming smile. “Anyways, I hope you continue working in the Yoon Institute. You’ve actually been a great help to Jeonghan, even though you aren’t his secretary or PA.” He explains. “He doesn’t act like it, but he’s actually nice, and he really appreciates what you do for him.” Mingyu doesn’t even have to look to know that Jeonghan’s glaring at his fiancé with enough intensity to set the entire building on fire.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.” Mingyu assures him sincerely. “Hyung.” He adds, as an afterthought.

Jisoo beams while Jeonghan groans.

 

In truth, Mingyu doesn’t actually do anything particularly remarkable or special whenever he goes to pick Chan up from Hoshi’s Dance House. Sure, he has gotten closer with Chan, who he knows to have some sense of respect for him as a hyung, but it’s not to a large extent, so Mingyu doesn’t think it’s really worth pointing out. He didn’t even notice any changes in his personality until Jisoo pointed it out, so it surprises Mingyu a bit (a lot) that the reason he’s acting differently is because of that lanky-boy-named-Minghao, and they don’t even know each other.

It’s just that Mingyu tends to leave the Yoon Institute a bit too early, so he has to wait and watch as the dancers practice, and his eyes focus on Minghao even more than Chan or the other ones. He can’t really explain it. Minghao isn’t really that outright special, Mingyu admits. He dances the same way he did the previous times, and he always still has that determined frustrated look. He still looks kind of redundant with his blonde and excessively curly hair, but Mingyu’s kind of used to it by now. Nothing has changed, and yet Mingyu only pays attention to him.

Mingyu hasn’t talked with any of them besides Hoshi, the owner of the dance studio (hence the name of it), and the one who teachers and controls the choreography. Hoshi had just asked if he was Chan’s guardian and proceeded to happily talk about the boy even though Mingyu said he just worked for Chan’s relative, so Mingyu doesn’t really have a reason to stare. He likes Hoshi though, all things aside. Hoshi, or Soonyoung, is a likable, kindhearted, sincere man. He’s different in person than he is when he dances, and Mingyu finds that to be an interesting contrast. Despite Hoshi-slash-Soonyoung’s friendliness though, Mingyu can’t muster up the courage to ask about the other dancers, specifically the one he who keeps on catching his eye even without meaning to.

So Mingyu just watches, silent, staring through the glass window that sits between the waiting area and the dance room. He really does keep his eyes trained on Minghao the entire time, even during breaks when they all stop dancing and there’s nothing particularly interesting to watch for the moment. Mingyu notices how Minghao distances himself from the others as he rests, drinking from his canteen in the corner or practicing some of his moves or adjusting his attire and whatnot. Even Chan sits beside one or two other dancers in silence if he’s not engaging in small conversations with them, but Minghao is absolutely alone. Mingyu wonders if that’s on purpose. Either way, he feels bad, and he wishes he could talk to him, though that factor may not be out of pity anymore.

The chance arises when he’s waiting for Chan only for the latter to run up ahead to him as everyone else starts packing up that he won’t be going back with him. “I’m going with my friends. “ Chan informs him. “I texted Jeonghan-hyung about it already, and he also said your work is done for today, so you can do whatever you want for the rest of it.”

“Oh,” Mingyu blinks. “Okay.”

Chan smiles before nodding. “Okay.” His name is suddenly called, and he turns to the group of boys already making their way to the door. “I’ll be going now.” He says, and he doesn’t spare Mingyu a second glance as he catches up with his friends as they leave.

Mingyu stands in silence, unmoving as it suddenly just hits him that he’s free for the rest of the day, and he doesn’t know what to do now. He glances around, and sees that most of the dancers are already gone. The ones that remain are a few people who are busy talking with Hoshi . . . and Minghao, who quietly packs his things by himself, minding nobody. Mingyu gulps, suddenly nervous.

His feet start to move without prompting, and before he can process what he’s doing, he’s spilling out random clumsy words that he will never forgive himself for to the person in front of him, fully aware that he’s probably embarrassing himself and strangely unaffected by that.

All that leads him to this: Mingyu walking through the familiar streets of Seoul with Xu Minghao, who, despite being a foreigner, knows where he’s going. Then again, all Mingyu asked was if he could walk home with him. The moment he said it, Mingyu had realized no one in their right mind would agree to such a shady and out-of-the-blue request, but Minghao, surprisingly, just blinked at him and said yes. Either there was something seriously wrong with the other boy, or he could tell what Mingyu meant behind those words, which would be really startling, because not even Mingyu knew what he was hinting at.

The silence isn’t awkward – Minghao, in fact, seems rather content with it. It’s just that Mingyu doesn’t like having it with strangers because he doesn’t know them, even if he’s the one who went up to Minghao in the first place. He’s really an idiot. What the fuck was – _is_ – he thinking? Even Wonwoo had more common sense that he did. What Mingyu blurts out to break the ice though, isn’t really any better.

“You don’t think it’s fishy that a total stranger would suddenly ask to walk you home?”

Minghao doesn’t look at him, eyes still trained forward. The canteen he carries in his hand makes a sloshing sound with every movement. “I think you just answered your own question with that, Mingyu-sshi.” His accent and pronunciation clearly show that he isn’t Korean, but it’s understandable, and Mingyu can tell that the boy is comfortable in the language anyway, despite those factors. 

Mingyu has this feeling that this curly-haired cutie is a smartass. “Aren’t you suspicious of me or anything?”

“Not really.” The other answers. “I’ve seen you in the studio a lot, picking up one of the younger ones, and Soonyoung-hyung seems to like you, so I don’t think you’re anything bad.”

“Aren’t you worried or something about the fact that I offered to walk you home then?”

Minghao whistles, but even without words yet, Mingyu can detect the sarcasm. “If you’re trying to convince me to stay away from you, then it’s actually kind of working.” He says. “Relax, weirdo, I’m not actually going to let you walk me to my place. I’m going to leave you at a coffee shop we’ll be passing by.”

This is strange. Mingyu knows it’s strange. He’s not even bad at socializing, but this just seems so hard. Maybe it’s because of their circumstance, which is Mingyu’s fault entirely.

“I don’t get why you’re like this when you’re the one who came to me out of nowhere to ask.” Minghao says, opening his container to drink.

“I don’t either.” Mingyu confesses. He shakes his head. “I’m really fucking weird; I’m sorry. If you want, you’ll never have to see my face again. Actually, I can even just take a turn and leave–”

“I don’t mind.” Minghao suddenly says, a bit too quickly. “You’re weird, yeah, but it’s okay.” He continues, smirking in amusement. “It’s kind of funny. I don’t meet a lot of weird people.”

“I’m not weird.” Mingyu says, a bit offended. “I’m normal.” He stops. “Well, maybe not that normal. I think my face is above normal, but–”

“That confidence in your looks definitely not.” Minghao interjects.

“Tell that to my boss.” Mingyu tells him confidently. “He hired me because of my face.”

“Is he a pervert?”

“No.” The other replies, disgusted at the thought. “He’s a fashion designer, and he has a fiancé.” Mingyu explains. “He hired me to be a model.” Jeonghan doesn’t treat him like one though, he thinks, but at the moment, it’s okay. Eventually he will.

“That’s your job?” Minghao asks, eyebrows raised. “I thought models were supposed to be cold and cocky.”

“That’s just what you’re supposed to appear to be. And it’s not ‘cold and cocky’, it’s ‘cool and confident’.” Mingyu corrects.

Minghao turns to Mingyu, scrutinizing him from head to toe before focusing on other things. “You’re weird for a model.”

“I’m not weird.” Mingyu repeats. “And I’m not only a model. I’m also a musician.” He says the latter bit proudly, but Minghao only hums in reply, sounding disinterested. Mingyu shifts topics. “Do you like weird people?”

“No.” Minghao says that also a bit too fast. It catches Mingyu off guard, with how abrupt he is. There’s a tinge of annoyance in the latter’s tone though. “I know too many.” He pauses, as if he’s recalling bad memories. It’s amusing. “I can’t handle people well.” It sounds generalized, but Mingyu isn’t that surprised, seeing how Minghao interacts with the others in the dance studio. But Minghao isn’t hard to talk to, despite the fact that Mingyu can tell that’s what the other’s trying to tell him. It doesn’t work, because Mingyu pulled all the awkward things for the two of them.

“ _I’m_ the one who can’t handle people well, since I’m the one who pulled this shit, not you.” Mingyu points out, and Minghao tilts his head, considering. “Why’d you agree then?” Mingyu continues, slightly exasperated. “To let me walk you home, even if we don’t know each other at all and we aren’t friends and you find me weird.”

“I don’t know.” Minghao admits. “But I don’t regret it.” Mingyu suddenly recognizes the scent coming from the flask. It’s alcohol. Minghao doesn’t look like he’s drank even a sip though. “It’s nice, sometimes, having company, even if it’s company you don’t know.”

Mingyu barely knows the other, but he can tell that Minghao isn’t one who shares his feelings so openly, so maybe he isn’t as sober as he appears to be. Mingyu actually appreciates it. It gives him the confidence to talk to Minghao again sometime. Maybe next time, Mingyu can walk Minghao home again, but as friends this time. Hopefully sober.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments on this chapter?


	4. feels like you'll appear, so i'm just waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought i updated this fic with the new chapter last week, but apparently not :/ i guess this chapter has some angst? or a lot? some more light will definitely be shed regarding minghao's situation, and the tags should also tell you something. chapter title taken from don't wanna cry, this time. 
> 
> anyways, here it is~

His leg aches.

It’s not the first time, but this one seems a bit worse than the previous instances. At least it’s only one leg now, but Minghao still hates it, still grunts at the sudden burst of pain in his right leg, forcing him to stop his routine. The couch is farther than usual, because he had gone through all the effort of clearing out the furniture in his living room by pushing them aside in order to practice his choreography, so he limps as quickly as he can to reach it.

He falls ungracefully on the cushion, quickly moving in a position that makes the ache in his lower half lessen. None of them help, but he just stays in one that gets him as far away from that body part as possible. He knows it will go away eventually, like it always does, but it still hurts. Minghao lies on his back and covers his eyes with his arm, suddenly feeling sick of the light – it’s not _sun_ light, because the sky is back to its daily gray and there nothing blinding about the dull light that somehow still remains strong – that illuminates the room (somehow) and prevents him from succumbing to the darkness that looms over him, inviting him to unconsciousness. He wants to close the blinds, but it’s too far, and he’s tired, physically and mentally, to go back up and do it.

In the past, whenever it happened, Junhui would help him up by supporting his weight as they’d make their way to the second floor, to Minghao’s room where he would try to rest. Junhui would sit at the foot of the bed instead of leaving to his own room and do other needed errands just to keep Minghao company, even though the latter never asked, and Junhui spoke about whatever came into his head. Neither of them were the talkative type, but Junhui made an effort to eliminate the silence to entertain Minghao, who hung onto every word Junhui said with genuine interest. It made him forget about the pain and what he was going through, even though Minghao knew it was worse in Junhui’s case, and he never badly reacted to it like he did. He was weak, and admitted it, but around Junhui, he wasn’t ashamed. He understood, after all, better than anyone, what he was experiencing.

Mingyu would be different. If Junhui acted like nothing was wrong, Mingyu would do the opposite, doting and worrying him like there was no tomorrow. He’d carry him up the stairs and do everything he could think of to make Minghao a bit more comfortable, running around left and right and never staying in one place. Sometimes it would be a cute, watching him scurry around, but Minghao mostly just wanted him to stay put, because watching the other gave him a headache and he just wanted Mingyu by his side, just like what Junhui would do, even if they weren’t the same person and weren’t supposed to act the same way.

And then there’s Jun, who doesn’t have human size or body parts and can’t do the same things Junhui and Mingyu do, but still comforts and helps Minghao all the same. He can always tell whether Minghao’s mood is down, and always tries to bring him out of it, tugging and whining and demanding attention. It doesn’t always work; Minghao really doesn’t always have the strength to do anything, but Jun, despite being robotic, doesn’t seem to mind, seems to understand his owner’s state all too well and respects it to an extent, trying when he thinks it’ll work and backing off when he knows better. Jun’s a smart dog, one that Minghao is admittedly fond of. During the times when it _would_ work, it wouldn’t get rid of the pain, but it did make him distracted, let him focus on other things than his decline of health.

But Junhui is gone, Jun ran away, and Mingyu isn’t in Seoul, touring around other areas in South Korea to perform his music. Minghao is all alone.

Wonwoo surprisingly texts him. Not frequently, but more than he’s ever done in the past. They’re friends, but they don’t have much to talk about. The things they can talk about with one another are touchy subjects, ones that neither of them want to actually bring up. So the texts Wonwoo sends him are awkward, short, and simple. Asking if he’s alright, if he ate breakfast, or lunch, or dinner. If he needs anything. It’s kind of like Mingyu, but on a less caring level, and Minghao suspects that it’s his doing that Wonwoo actually cares enough to ask how he’s doing. Maybe he even visited, bringing food or something for Minghao; he wouldn’t actually know, because he locked the front door for once, hasn’t fixed the doorbell, and overall didn’t care about anything outside his safe haven of a house. It’s probably an asshole move, Minghao thinks to himself, but since Wonwoo hadn’t commented on anything about him possibly going to his place in his texts, he assumes the machinist didn’t do it.

The drizzle he can hear from inside is what snaps him out of his thoughts. He realizes that the music for his dances is still playing from the speaker, and the song that comes on is of Mingyu’s. When Minghao hears him rapping an entire verse, his heart aches this time, suddenly missing his boyfriend. He wishes that they would’ve met up before Mingyu left, but all they did was say goodbye over the phone, and haven’t heard from one another since. It’s been almost a month. It shouldn’t be odd, because Minghao isn’t clingy and doesn’t normally care about the lack of communication he has with Mingyu when he’s out, but Minghao is unsettled this time, and he knows why, and he hates it.

His phone dings, indicating a text. When Minghao checks it, it’s just Wonwoo again, asking him if he had dinner. He hadn’t even realized the sun had set, too engrossed in his own thoughts. Minghao’s stomach, as if on cue, grumbles in hunger, but he only locks his phone, sets it aside, and curls into a ball, ignoring it.

He’s lonely, for once, and he watches as the drizzle turns into something stronger.

~::~

He wakes up to a new morning and a missed call from Mingyu. It’s followed by a series of texts, Mingyu telling Minghao he’s back and to call him soon. Minghao pretends there’s nothing on his screen and gathers the energy to stand up and fix up.

It goes on for a few more days.

~::~

The rain is what wakes him up at first. It’s loud and strong, droplets falling and crashing violently into his house. It snaps him awake, and he’s unable to go back to sleep, even though the blinds are closed and the room is dark. It’s midday but it feels like morning, and he’s irritated, but he leaves the bed and trudges downstairs to make food.

He makes himself coffee and carries the mug towards the veranda area, though he doesn’t slide the doors open and instead stares through the glass as the rain continues to fall. His townhouse is in a quiet neighborhood, but from outside, he can still hear the loud noises of life happening amidst the rain, like the soft sound of cars honking far ahead and the yells of the people coming from next door. Behind him, the television up against the wall shows the news, updating citizens on what’s happening around the country and the world. It’s normal, and life moves on, even on a seemingly gloomy day like this. It’s just Minghao who stays put, unmoving and still as he constantly falters, dragged down by his disabilities and insecurities, stays a step behind everything and everyone else. The world moves too fast and too cruelly for Minghao’s liking, but he knows better than to complain about the inevitable.

He hears a strange sound coming from outside, and he looks down and sees something odd by the side, beyond the glass doors. It moves a bit, and it sparks Minghao’s curiosity and apprehension.

Minghao knows better than anyone else that going outside while it’s raining – especially _this_ hard – is dangerous for him. It’s like walking into a fire, but Minghao takes a chance when the rain suddenly slows down and seems to be finished for the meantime. He knows better– it will come back strong as ever in a few moments, so he hurries, setting down his mug somewhere safe and sliding the doors open and stepping outside, even if the moment he catches the outdoor air his body becomes hypersensitive, immediately reacting to the weather that hates him so much through heavy coughing and the sudden loss of strength to just move. He manages somehow, to quickly grab the object that caught his attention and bring it inside, slamming the door shuts as he falls back and lands on his ass, heaving heavily as the strange thing is cradled safely in his hands.

After letting out a consecutive amount of intense coughs that turn a bit wet at some point and make him wish he just coughed out his lungs instead, he turns to focus on the object he had grabbed recklessly, without thought.  

When he opens his palms, he realizes it’s a living thing he’s holding onto, colored brown and curled up to hide its features, breaths steady and slightly labored. It’s hiding itself, but Minghao can tell from the feathers that it’s a bird – a fucking _bird_ , and he hasn’t seen those in years – and it’s one that probably also fucking terrified of him at the moment.

Standing up is a struggle, his legs still trying to collect the energy it usually had, but eventually he’s able to get up and find a place for the bird to rest. Minghao decides to set the creature down on Jun’s old bed, even though it’s ten times bigger than it and the cushion smells strongly of a different animal. At least it’s warm, because Minghao can feel it shivering badly either due to the cold or being held by unknown hands. As Minghao lifts up the bed to put on the desk, the bird visibly relaxes and uncurls itself, revealing a small beak, smaller eyes, and something causing it to sit awkwardly, as if it’s trying not to pressure on a particular area.

There aren’t any visible or noticeable wounds, but Minghao recognizes the problem soon enough, even when the bird slowly unravels and shows itself – it’s one of the wings. He can tell, because when it uncurled, it did so slowly, cautious movements to make sure that area wouldn’t get further injured, and even now, as it sits on the soft cushion, it makes sure to heavily lean on a certain side in order to avoid letting its wing experience further pain. He doesn’t know what caused the injury, but he knows it’s a major one, even though nothing may appear to be wrong.

“You’re okay.” Minghao tells it. “You’re not alone.” He continues, as he watches the bird trying not to drag his movements, trying to not look so weak. It’s a sad sight, but Minghao can’t help but feel a bit better.  Maybe he isn’t the only one left behind, incapable and helpless to the way the world works.

~::~

Despite being injured, it doesn’t stop the bird from being alert, reacting to every single sound it can hear and remaining tense until it’s sure that any harm has passed. It’s half amusing and half worrying, so Minghao tries to tone down the noise because he doesn’t like disturbing the rest of the animal. Minghao had tried practicing once, but the bird would stay completely still the entire time the song was playing until Minghao got tired, gave up, and turned off the music, ceasing his work for the time.

He doesn’t really know what birds eat, and he can’t buy any bird food outside, so Minghao feeds it crumbs of bread and biscuits and really tiny seeds he finds in his food that he doesn’t immediately eat or throw away. The bird eats then, hesitantly at first, but eventually learns that it’s harmless, and happily accepts the water Minghao puts in a small plastic cup for it, even though it’s difficult to walk towards it when it’s injured and hurting. Minghao hasn’t made it transfer out of the dog bed, but he doesn’t know any other alternatives for it to rest, so he doesn’t do anything. He knows they don’t sell bird cages here – there’s no point in catering for the needs of an animal that shouldn’t even be here – so he has to make do with what he has.

He wants to interact more with the bird, both concerned for the animal’s well-being and fascinated by the fact that it’s even here in Seoul, but he stops himself, watches from a distance as the bird enjoys his freedom and solitude in the only way it can.

It doesn’t work for long though. The bird shies away from Minghao’s hand the moment he tries setting the new set of water for it, but instead of pulling away, Minghao turns over his hand and opens his palm a few inches away from it, revealing some seeds he knows the creature likes. While wary, the bird eventually approaches him when he stills his hand completely and slowly eats the food Minghao has offered. It makes him smile a bit, but he doesn’t make much of an effort to do anything more than that. It’s not all bad – the bird still hates loud noises, but isn’t so against Minghao’s presence anymore, not as hesitant as it once was as long as he brings it food to eat.

Minghao does his dance practice upstairs, but it’s harder to find a clean open space in a cramped up hallway with rooms that are completely full, and he doesn’t even have the strength to move his body in the way he usually does. It doesn’t help that he’s constantly worried about the bird, what it’s doing and if it’s alright. Mostly it just eats and sleeps, though there are times when it walks around the bed and tries fluttering its wings, only for it to be unable to rise.

As days pass, the bird progresses, not only with its relationship with Minghao, but also with its ability. There are times when it walks out of its bed and around the long table, and while there were one or two instances when it was able to lift itself off the ground, it was for even less than a second and its feet were too close to the surface. He knows walking itself isn’t the problem of the bird, but he guesses that it’s still a bit scared of its new surroundings, making it unable to travel around. Minghao doesn’t know what to do to make it better, so he just watches.

Mingyu visits for the first time since the bird came, and he doesn’t notice the tiny animal at first, too engrossed with his boyfriend and the entire state of the house – it’s _not_ messy, because Minghao isn’t like that, but Mingyu doesn’t seem content with it.

The dancer considers telling the other about it, but then Mingyu hands him a large bag full of things he got for him – like brands of food he’s never seen before, shirts, and Mingyu’s new mini album sneakily added – and it distracts Minghao as the rapper wanders off to the living room to inspect how Minghao was doing this whole time without any human interaction. Mingyu’s long rant about how the entire experience of the concert went gets cut short abruptly, but Minghao doesn’t react until Mingyu leaves the living room and walks towards him, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Please tell me that there isn’t a small animal that I vaguely recognize in the living room.” He says.

Minghao shrugs. “What do you think?”

“Oh my fucking god.” Mingyu swears, eyes wide as he turns around and rushes back to the living room. Minghao follows him, carrying the bag in his arms, amused at his boyfriend’s reaction.

 

“So _this_ is why you basically went MIA and ignored every text and call I sent?” Mingyu demands. “For a bird?”

Minghao scoffs, not liking the tone in Mingyu’s words. He doesn’t really want to tell him the truth though, as to why Minghao basically ignored every notification that appeared on his phone. It’d only worry the other. He also doesn’t like how in disbelief Mingyu sounds because of the fact that Minghao seems to treasure the bird so much. He’s become attached to the creature, he’ll admit. “What’s your point?”

“I still can’t believe you found a _bird_ in Seoul– and by your veranda, no less.” Mingyu exclaims, not for the first time. “It’s half cool, half scary. Maybe something’s happening to our climate now. Global warming or something. Aerial animals can’t live under Seoul’s weather.”

“Sounds familiar.” Minghao can’t help but mutter, but Mingyu doesn’t seem to hear him. “I don’t think that’s it.” He tells him. “It’s just _one_ bird. And nothing strange has happened recently anyway, besides this.” Minghao looks at the bird, busy drinking water. “This bird clearly isn’t from here, so maybe it just got injured and got lost and ended up here.”

“I’m surprised it’s still alive.” Mingyu admits.

“It would’ve died if I didn’t pick it up in time.” Minghao explains, recalling the memory. “It wasn’t too exposed to the rain, so it isn’t in danger at the moment. I think it entered Seoul when the weather was still decent.”

Mingyu glances at the bird and frowns. “I don’t get its injury, honestly.”

“One of the wings.” Minghao answers. “If you look at it, you’ll notice how it avoids letting one of its wings touch or hit anything. The wound isn’t visible, which I think is the main problem, so it’s not something external that we can take out with force alone.”

The other sits on the couch and crosses his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It’d be nice if we can go to a vet and have them fix the problem.”

“Vets in Seoul don’t cater to its kind though.” Minghao points out. “There’s nothing they can do.” Minghao doesn’t know what to do because of this.

“So what now?”

“I don’t know.” Minghao says, pulling a chair and sitting in front of the bird as it struggles with walking out of bed. It doesn’t seem to mind the noise of their chatting, surprisingly, or maybe that’s because it’s more focused on doing other tasks. Or maybe because it’s recognized Minghao’s voice that constantly talks to it and isn’t afraid of him anymore. Minghao doesn’t help the bird move around not because he’s an ass, but because he knows from experience that progress is more possible if the bird does it itself. If Minghao helps it from now on, then it won’t be as independent, and he doesn’t think the bird wants to be here forever. And it might as well get used to its circumstance while it can.

Mingyu doesn’t seem to like the answer, frowning. “Don’t say that. There has to be something–”

“Not every problem has a solution, Mingyu.” Minghao snaps, a bit fed up. They’ve had conversations like these before. “Some things just can’t be fixed, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Don’t worry about the things you can’t change. It’s not worth stressing over.”

“Minghao . . .” is all Mingyu says, because he understands what Minghao is really talking about and doesn’t know how to respond.

“Don’t worry.” Minghao replies, eyes trained on the bird. “Just learn to appreciate things while they last.”

“Okay.” And suddenly Minghao feels Mingyu rest his hand on top of his head, running it through his hair.

“Stop it.” Minghao says, annoyed. He shakes his head, trying to get rid of Mingyu’s hand. “You’re gonna mess it up.”

“As if It’s not messed up already.” Mingyu says, using both his hands to try and fix it. “You have sex hair.”

“You wish I had sex hair.” Minghao scoffs, and then he makes a face when he feels Mingyu gently patting his head. “Stop it.” He repeats, hissing. “I feel like a dog.”

Mingyu doesn’t stop though, despite Minghao’s irritation. The latter eventually sighs, resigned. “What are you trying to do?” He asks. Mingyu suddenly stops and rests his hand on his hair instead of moving it. It’s a bit comforting, because Minghao can feel how close Mingyu is, feel his warmth radiate out of him and Minghao feels less alone, realizes how much he misses the other, but he refuses to admit it. 

“Appreciate things while they last.” Mingyu says, and Minghao falls silent.

~::~

“ _Okay_.” Soonyoung says, and there’s a moment of silence between them. It makes Minghao nervous, because he’s never spoken to Soonyoung through a phone call, and it’s never been about something as serious as this. He doesn’t sound mad though, surprisingly, but Minghao can’t tell what Soonyoung’s thinking. He just hopes that the other understands. “ _Are you sure?”_

“I’m sure.” Minghao answers softly, maybe a bit sadly.

“ _Okay_.” Soonyoung repeats. “ _Well, I’ll see you then_.” Even though the both of them know that isn’t going to happen anytime soon. Soonyoung and Minghao are good friends, but there isn’t anything for them to relate to besides dancing, besides the practices and talking and bonding at the studio, and what happens now that they don’t even have that anymore?

“Mm,” Minghao hums. “I’m sorry.”

“ _Don’t be._ ” The elder quickly says. “ _I get it; I really do_.” Another pause. “ _Take care of yourself_.”

“I will.” And then the line goes dead.

It takes Minghao a while before he sets his phone down, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It wasn’t as hard as he thought, but it doesn’t mean the weight of what had just happened doesn’t heavily set down upon his shoulders. He doesn’t bother shaking off the guilt and regret, because he knows he’s not going back, even if he wanted to. He’s accepted it already, and he knows Soonyoung, even though Minghao has never told him, has as well.

He throws the phone at the couch, trying to get it as far away from his as possible. Even though he uses it so often, sometimes he just hates it, makes him remember texts and phone calls and a number he can’t bear to delete, because he has an album full of pictures that he doesn’t want to look at, has all these games and apps only because he once knew someone else who wanted him to have it. And he just doesn’t want to remember that he has them, doesn’t want to remember at all.

Minghao sits back down on the chair, flexing his legs because they hurt from standing up for so long. If that alone took up so much of his strength, then maybe quitting with the morning jogs and the dances was actually a good idea. The conversation with Soonyoung had taken a while, though maybe that was because Minghao had wasted so much time pacing back and forth in the living room gathering the courage to call, and when he actually did, he forgot what to say, the words crawling up his throat but his mind blank, full of sudden fear.

The bird chirps, catching Minghao’s attention. It stands by the ledge of the table, looking down with apprehension, feet curled up by the edge. He can see how its wings twitch, wanting to spread open, and he waits. It’s not the first time the bird has done this, but he’s yet to actually take off and fly. It had eventually grown unafraid and got used to Minghao’s home, walking without hesitance and doing so frequently. Minghao even considered moving it to a larger table so it’d have more space to roam around.

There haven’t been any successful attempts in flying, but Minghao thinks they can take it slow. The bird clearly doesn’t think this, though maybe it’s because recently the weather has been decent, and it knows as well as Minghao does that if it wants to leave, it should be now.

The bird makes another sound, and then it flutters its wings and jumps, trying to flap them. For a second, Minghao thinks its works, the bird managing to go higher, but it only lasts for a moment, and then its wings are not strong enough to keep moving and lose against gravity’s power, pulling it down without mercy.

Minghao’s reflexes are still quick, despite everything, leaving his seat in a flash to catch the bird in his hands. He lands on the floor with a thump, and he winces at the pain in his stomach for doing something so brash, but at least the bird is safe, when he looks down at his palms.

He sets the creature back on the table and lets it retreat back to its bed, apparently shaken up by what had just occurred. Minghao sits back on his chair, leaning forward with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he stands up and leaves the living room, returning with some food in hand, which he offers to it as a means of comfort.

“Here,” He says, as the bird comes to him to eat. He’s used to not moving, letting the animal feel more at ease with him as it eats. Staying still is something he doesn’t do often, when dancing requires so much movement, but he kind of likes it, having moments like these that aren’t stressful or adrenaline-rushing. He should get used to those too. He’s already used to the bird, its needs and presence, its effort and the sound of its chirps that don’t come out a lot but still have enough recognizable emotion when they do, and he doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

“So,” He remembers Mingyu saying. “No name yet?”

“No.” Minghao had replied. “What’s with the ‘yet’?”

“Don’t you plan on giving it a name?” Mingyu asked. “You can’t call it ‘the bird’ forever.”

“Who says that it’s going to stay here forever?” Minghao said, looking at Mingyu with raised eyebrows. “Giving it a name means I expect it to stay.” He explained. “And I don’t want it to.”

But even Minghao knew at the time that it was a lie. He just didn’t want to confront the possibility that he actually wanted the bird to stay with him, because he’d be depriving it of a chance to leave when it can, and he didn’t want to drag down something that deserves better. It may be just a bird, but it still needs freedom, it still needs to live. Minghao won’t keep it caged. He isn’t a prison. He’s a rest house, where you can stay and relax and slowly make him grow attached to you and afterwards, collect pieces of him that he openly offers because someday he’s going to crumble into nothing. He knows how it works. It’s what happened with Junhui. Isn’t it only fair that it happens to Minghao as well?

 

Exactly a week later, it’s a fucking shitstorm. Mingyu suddenly barges in unannounced (not new – Minghao stopped locking the door ever since Mingyu came back, so it’s probably his fault in the first place), too angry for words but still managing to throw them at Minghao mercilessly (definitely new). It throws the younger off guard, because Mingyu isn’t supposed to know about what happened, and it isn’t his business in the first place. It doesn’t seem to matter to Mingyu though, even if Minghao tells him that.

“I found out through Soonyoung-hyung.” Mingyu says. “I went to the dance studio earlier to check on you, but he told me you don’t go there anymore.”

“At least he saved me the trouble of telling you.” Minghao mutters, sitting on the couch. Mingyu is standing, so the height gives a sense of superiority and intimidation that Minghao notices but doesn’t want to acknowledge. For the first time during their entire conversation, he looks up and catches Mingyu’s pinched expression. “What? Are you mad that I didn’t tell you immediately?”

“No.” The word is said so firmly that Minghao almost believes it. The latter doesn’t fail to notice how Mingyu’s fists clench tightly. “I’m mad because you quit.”

“It isn’t your business.”

“Of course it’s my business!” Mingyu suddenly yells. Minghao nearly flinches. From the corner of his eye, he sees the bird’s head snap towards the direction of the loud voice before cowering and hiding in its bed. “I’m your fucking boyfriend! And I can’t just sit around and watch you give up the one thing you have been working so fucking hard on for nothing!”

“But there is nothing!” Minghao shouts back, abruptly standing up, unable to help himself. “It doesn’t fucking matter how hard I work or practice for all these new choreographies I make, because I’ll never get to perform them! I can’t enter competitions, I can’t even _watch_ them! I can’t do the same things I could do before, and I’ll never be able to. This is for the best.”

“Like hell it’s for the best!” He snarls. “You knew that even before, and yet you still went through with it; you didn’t quit. But you are now. Just because you saved some stupid fucking bird and suddenly you realize how you’re in similar circumstances and now you want to give up–”

“Shut the fuck up.” Minghao cuts him off. “You don’t– you don’t get it, do you? Why don’t you get it?” He isn’t afraid of the frustration slipping past his lips, but it’s the tears gathering in his eyes that he attempts to keep at bay. He knows Mingyu still sees them. “It’s different this time, Mingyu. I’m not as strong or as healthy as I once was. I can’t fucking handle it anymore; I can’t keep up with _anything_. Fuck, I haven’t even left the house in a month!” He practically screams. Mingyu, for the first time, doesn’t have a retort. “And this wasn’t some last-minute decision, okay? I was thinking about stopping for a long time. I never– I never wanted to give up dancing; dancing is all I’ve ever wanted to do, but I had to.” This time it’s Minghao who clenches his fists. “And I don’t like it, but I’ve accepted it. Why can’t you?”

It takes a while for Mingyu to respond. He looks everywhere except Minghao’s face, but eventually, he replies. “Because I don’t want to,” He says quietly. It’s a confession, one that Minghao doesn’t expect. It would’ve been better if he screamed back, if he hurled more words for the other to refute. Mingyu stares at his boyfriend, straight in the eyes. His clenched fists tremble, and he tries calming them down by relaxing his hold. “Because if I do, it means I acknowledge what’s happening, and I don’t want it to happen. Because it means that you’re not happy anymore, and you’re okay with that. But you shouldn’t.” Minghao nearly cries when he sees that Mingyu starts doing so. Unlike Minghao though, Mingyu isn’t afraid of his tears. “You should– you should be happy. You should be happy with _me_. You’re supposed to practice dancing at home and in the studio and I’m supposed to drop by to visit or pick you up and take you out for lunch. You’re supposed to compete and go abroad and win trophies and let me take pictures of you with the rest of the crew. I’m supposed to see you at fashion shows and sitting in the front row while I perform songs I rapped to, songs I made. Songs I made for _you_ , for _us_.” Mingyu is babbling nonsense, but even if Minghao doesn’t want to listen, he doesn’t want him to stop either. “And we– we’re supposed to go grocery shopping and walk Jun in the park and share breakfast or a milkshake and hold hands in the movie theatre and try to cook new recipes and _fail_ , play footsies while we’re out having dinner and make out in public places, run in the rain and laugh at how drenched we are instead of get worried about our health. We’re supposed to watch cherry blossoms fall at home or in some random coffee shop with shitty ass coffee but really good desserts. We’re supposed to _live together_ , do cheesy domestic stuff like brush our teeth beside each other or pee while the other is showering and buy Jun new toys to chew and destroy every month and try and clean the house but end up fucking in every corner because sex is great, and just enjoy every moment we have, not because it would be the last, but because someday we want to look back on all those days when we’re old and tell kids who ask about it about how we fell in love, grew up, and _lived_.”

Mingyu takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself even though he’s clearly a mess. Minghao isn’t much better, but he doesn’t say anything. “You’re supposed to live.” Mingyu continues, not as loud or as passionate, but still so sure all the same. “I want you to live.”

The words that leave Minghao aren’t the ones he wants to say. He wants to say that he’s touched and that he also wants to do all those things, because he _does_ , and he wants to kiss Mingyu harshly on the lips and all over his face because he loves him, and he wants to end their fight because it’s pointless and he doesn’t like seeing Mingyu crying, and he doesn’t like having his vision blurred from his own tears. But he doesn’t do or say any of those. As much as he wants to, he isn’t that type of person. So instead he says, with a shaky but firm voice, “I can’t”, and while it’s the most regretful and hurtful thing he’s ever told Mingyu, it’s also the most truthful.


	5. my heart won't listen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg this update is so late i'm sorry. but one chapter to go!! wow can't believe this is about to come to an end. it was fun writing this, since i got to practice with how to pace things and how to write things in an established relationship, in a domestic au. i think the clear idea of what minghao's illness is will be revealed in the last chapter, and even if it's not clear enough for you, then know that i kind of did it on purpose? it's not a nameable illness, that's for sure.

For a while, the bird sort of reverts back to its old sense, flinching at the loud sounds that it hears in the room and staying still, pretending to not be alive or hiding wherever it can. Minghao and Mingyu’s fight was so loud and violent that it had shaken up the bird in some way, and Minghao feels sorry for it, not liking what had happened and how it affected the creature. It isn’t afraid of him though, thankfully. At least all that progress hadn’t gone to waste.

“I’m sorry.” Minghao apologizes to it, when the bird is busy hiding behind the bed because Minghao had accidentally pulled the blinds shut a little too harshly, causing a loud sound. He says sorry a lot, and while it still takes more than that, like offering food, at least the animal eventually comes out every time. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” The bird only eats silently, not like Minghao expected a reply. He notices how the creature’s eyes quickly dart around the entire area, as if waiting for something. Minghao knows what the bird’s so concerned about.

“Do you hate him?” Minghao asks, after a while. He doesn’t ask because he expects an answer or because he needs one. It’s just in amusement, because even though Mingyu has only approached the bird around three times, the creature’s dislike for his boyfriend seems to go beyond expected bounds, ignoring Mingyu’s presence entirely and refusing to eat the food he offers, or his petting, and just hating his voice.

“I know you still do.” Minghao continues. “Especially after what happened recently.” The bird doesn’t react, though Minghao didn’t expect it to. “He hasn’t come back since the fight, you know. What kind of person runs away from an argument they started instead of finishing it?” He knows it’d be more helpful to whine to an actual person, not an animal, but Minghao doesn’t want to make too big of a deal out of it. What Mingyu had done hurt, and Minghao is angry, but it isn’t like the latter doesn’t understand what Mingyu’s thinking. It isn’t the first time the other has done this before anyway. It happens enough that Minghao just wants Mingyu to come back, even if the apologies wouldn’t be as lengthy as the fights, because Minghao knows that Mingyu always sincerely means his words, and the former has learned to forgive.

“I guess he has a point though.” considers Minghao, pulling his hand away and watching as the bird goes back to doing its own business, walking around the area. “Maybe I should’ve tried a bit more, put more effort into it.” He’s silent afterwards, contemplating on what he’s saying. “I don’t think it would change anything, but at least I could pretend that things are fine for a while longer.” He stares at the bird, and the creature stares back, tilting its head. “Or not?” Minghao adds, taking in the bird’s reaction to what he’s saying, as if it actually understands and is trying to respond. Maybe it is. There’s no harm in assuming so. “You’re right. Mingyu deserves to know the truth, after all, even if he’ll hate me for it.”

When he reaches his hands out, this time without food, only with open palms, the bird doesn’t avoid him, but it doesn’t approach Minghao immediately. It stands still, watching as its caretaker’s hands surround it. Then it moves its thin legs and steps on his palms, walking on them until it finds itself at the center. The creature is relaxed as Minghao lifts it and they start to head somewhere, even if it’s never been anywhere but that table where its bed lies. 

They stop by the veranda area, Minghao sitting down slowly while making sure nothing happens to the bird right in front of the glass doors that block them from the outside. He sets the creature down on the floor and watches as it steps out of his palms and feels the wooden ground. It starts to pace around, trying to get used to the new environment, but Minghao no longer pays it any mind, instead turning to focus on the view outside.

“It’d be nice to go outside.” Minghao says. The weather isn’t so bad. A drizzle had just occurred, so the garden outside has damp grass and the air must be moist. That’s what Mingyu tells him it’s like; Minghao has never had any firsthand experience. “Should we go out?” He wants to go out to know what it feels like even just once. He’s been in Seoul for years but he’s never done it before. Only back in China. And it may not be any different, but Minghao wouldn’t know for sure. There are so many things he doesn’t know, but does know that he won’t have the time to find them all out. “No,” He decides eventually. “Not yet.” He glances down at the bird, which is still getting used to its surroundings. “You’re not healthy enough.”

He says it as if the bird will get better someday. Minghao doesn’t know too much about animal anatomy, but he does know that the creature’s wings won’t completely heal, and there’s nothing anybody can do. He thinks about approaching Wonwoo with the request of building a new set of wings for the bird, or at least something to support it so it can fly, but Minghao’s also considered the setbacks, how it might not work. It’s not worth it, in the end. He claims he’s waiting for the bird to recover, but he knows that won’t ever happen. “Like me.” He adds, after a while. “As if we’ll ever be healthy enough.” They’re just waiting for time to pass by, and while it passes by gradually, it’s a kind of slow that Minghao appreciates.

“Ah,” He lets out a breath. “I want to go out.” He always sounds whiney when he says it, whether it’s to Mingyu, Jun, or the bird. He feels like a little kid, seeing snow for the nth time but still not allowed to go out and enjoy it, charmed by how the white substance falls and wanting to know what it feels like to fall on his hands and clothes. It’s not that Minghao thinks of the rain as something as different and beautiful as snow, because they’re actually just normal, especially in Seoul. It’s just that it always seems that way because he can’t go under it, can’t enjoy it. It makes him different from the rest, unable to do the same things others can, and while he knows that it’s not his fault, he still hates it. He wants to be normal, even for just a second. He doesn’t want to live under special conditions, he wants to live in the same circumstances as the rest and worry about the same mundane short-lived problems they have. He never wants much, but he can’t even get them. Often, he wonders if it’s because he’s done something wrong in his previous life.

The bird tries to spread its wings, even though Minghao notices how the injured side twitches and takes a bit longer to open. It jumps, trying to flap its wings at the same time, but it doesn’t succeed, even after a few more tries. It manages to fly above a foot, but it can’t go higher than that. There’s progress, way better than last time, but it’s still not enough. He doesn’t think he should dictate when the bird is capable of leaving though, even if he knows its fate. Minghao reaches over to the blinds clumsily shoved to the side and pushes it away properly, revealing a mini door on the glass, and he grabs the knob attached and pushes it open. 

“This was for the dogs,” Minghao tells the bird. “So they can go out.” He’s reminded of Jun, for a second, how he’d constantly sneak out the moment he discovered the exit, and how Minghao would spend an hour or so looking throughout the entire house for him only to find the dog outside, beckoning him to come back in. Minghao moves so the bird can see what he’s referring to. “You can get out through here, in case you’re ready to leave and I’m not there to let you out. I’ll leave it open the entire time. Just remember that it’s behind the blinds.” To put emphasis, Minghao scoops the bird up with one hand and sticks his arm outside for a brief moment, so it would know what he was talking about. Then he pulls it back inside and sets the animal down, covering the entrance with the blinds. He knows the dangers of doing this, of leaving the door open the entire time. It could invite burglars who see an opening and realize that the house is unguarded, but it isn’t as if Minghao doesn’t know this already. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t even lock any door in the entire place, and there is nothing anyone would want to steal from someone like him.

“So you can go out.” He says. It sounds distant and hollow, as if it isn’t true. He rests his hand on the floor and leans on it as he gazes outside. It always feels like he’s looking at it from another world, even if it’s just a step awake. “And you won’t have to remain here.”

The thought of the bird leaving makes Minghao sad, as much as he tries not to feel it. He grew attached to the creature, in the same way he grew attached to Jun. But Jun left, and the bird will leave. It has to leave. Minghao may not want it, but he won’t stop it, because he understands the need to be free and to do what you want without any repercussions. He believes everyone deserves that, even animals. And he won’t like it at all, and he’ll be lonely again, but he’ll learn to live with it, just like he always did. It’s a kind of loneliness that Mingyu couldn’t fix, when he’s not kept distracted and his thoughts and circumstances come barging in like unwanted guests, when he can’t find the motivation to do anything on certain days  and no one can change it, that only Jun and this bird could, but it won’t last forever. Minghao sighs, unable to help himself feel down at the realization.

The bird suddenly walks towards him, walking through Minghao’s hand to snuggle its head against his legs, as if it can read his thoughts. He doesn’t look back down, but he smiles, and closes his eyes and makes sure to remember the moment where he didn’t feel alone.

~::~

Mingyu doesn’t visit as much as before. Minghao doesn’t _actually_ tell Mingyu that, and he never acts like Mingyu’s visits are less frequent nowadays, like he’s alone in his house more often than not, like it upsets him, but Mingyu knows it. It doesn’t take a genius to. It also doesn’t take a genius to notice that Minghao is affected by his boyfriend’s absence, even though he does a damn good job of hiding it.

But work always breathes heavily down Mingyu’s neck, and it’s this time around when it seems the most brutal. It’s not as if it bothers Minghao – Mingyu’s had his jobs way before the two even met, and they both know that the elder always get busy these months, but it doesn’t make things any better, and he knows that the younger subtly hates it when Mingyu has to be away. Mingyu does as well. Whenever he’s away doing concerts in other distant areas or doing photoshoots abroad or fashion shows, he spends so much time missing Minghao and being so shameless about it that Jihoon, who normally minds his own business, unlike Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Jisoo, actually pointed out.

“ _This_ is why you can never have more than two songs in any album.” Jihoon tells him once, throwing the stack of papers filled with lyrics written by Mingyu as suggestions for new songs for their new album. The younger supposes that Jihoon would’ve thrown a louder and bigger fit if not for the fact that they were in a hotel room not in Seoul, therefore forcing him to mellow down his temper to not disturb other guests. This was one of the benefits of touring– they weren’t in Jihoon’s studio, so the latter had to hold back whatever he wanted to yell at him. “There’s no variety in the subject of your songs. They’re all about _longing_.”

Mingyu wishes that he had Seungcheol for this tour’s roomate instead of Jihoon, or maybe even that Seokmin guy that Jihoon supposedly took in because of his talent and potential even though they’ve never formally met before, and Jihoon’s never taken him to the recording studio with the two rappers. Seungcheol wouldn’t nag him about how he composed, and he thinks Seokmin probably wouldn’t even try asking about it. Anybody but Lee Jihoon.

“Maybe because that’s what I feel most of the time? It’s not my fault that you always make us try to compose while we’re in the middle of touring.” Mingyu says. “And besides, _you’re_ the one who told me to write what I feel. You said songs that come from the heart are the ones that sell.”

“But you never write anything besides that. People are going to get sick of it eventually.” Jihoon scrunches up his nose. “ _I’m_ already sick of it.”

Mingyu’s pretty sick of the topics of Jihoon’s songs too. They may talk about different things, but they all center on love, and since Mingyu actually knows where that love Jihoon has comes from, it’s kind of sickening to see how inconsistent the elder’s feelings get, going from Jihoon being happy to being with Seungcheol, to seeing him being happy with someone else even though it hurts, to just being hurt and wishing they’d just be happy together. Mingyu wishes they’d just date already. It’s not as if Seungcheol doesn’t feel the same and keeps it a secret. He doesn’t think it’d be a good idea to tell this all to Jihoon though, because the latter is closed off and doesn’t really like feelings and he wants to keep it that way, and Mingyu thinks he should leave it to Seungcheol to change that part of Lee Jihoon.

“What do you want me to write about then?” Mingyu asks. “I can’t write about unrequited love or jealousy; I have a boyfriend, and we’re fine.”

“I know.” Jihoon says through gritted teeth.

“Do I write songs about being happy with him?” He continues. “I think our album has too much of that though.”

“How about stuff that aren’t love-related?” Jihoon suggests. “You have a life outside Minghao, don’t you?” Mingyu gives him a look, and the elder sighs. “If you’re going to write about love, just make sure it’s not about longing. If you want it to be about being happy, just make sure it’s better than Seungcheol-hyung’s.”

Mingyu pouts. “Hyung, that’s unfair. You’ll _always_ choose Seungcheol-hyung’s happy songs over mine.”

“That’s because you’re more of an idiot than he is.”

“No, that’s because you like that idiot more than you like me.”

Jihoon grabs the papers and smacks Mingyu in the head with them.  

 

“You’re a bad boyfriend.” is the first thing Minghao tells him the moment the former opens the door for said bad boyfriend. “You’re not answering my calls or texts.”

“You’re _actually_ calling me? Like, genuinely? Not because you need to ask for something?” Mingyu asks, choosing not to comment on the fact that Minghao never replies to _Mingyu’s_ own calls and messages. Minghao only rolls his eyes as he lets the other in. “My phone didn’t get anything, so maybe it’s broken, but I’ll check later. I was busy though.”

“With what?” Minghao questions, following Mingyu as he enters the living room. “I thought you were done touring for the year.”

“I am.” Mingyu answers, flopping down on the couch. He lifts up a small circular object to show Minghao, and the latter’s brows knit in confusion as he takes a seat beside his boyfriend. “I was busy with this.”

“What is it?”

“These are from adoption centers.” Mingyu says, clicking the blue center and revealing a holographic touch-screen hovering above the object on air. “Animals abandoned with no place to go. They’re different from pet shops. I think they’re actually better. More people should go to them if they want a pet instead of a shop.”

“Why are you showing me these?” Minghao asks. “Do you want me to go with you to one sometime?”

“No,” The elder shakes his head. “I’m showing it to you so you can choose.”

“Choose?”

“Yeah,” He points at the pictures before moving on to the texts beside each one. “There’s information about each and every animal they have. Breed, backstory, medical history, current circumstances.” He explains. He swipes his finger, revealing more. “These are all the animals that aren’t adopted yet. I got this thing from one center, so they only show their animals, but I checked out other places to. This one just seemed to be the most convenient, because they mostly take care of the ones with the bad backgrounds since they have the advanced equipment to take care of them until someone decides to take them in. I thought you’d like these more than the others anyway.” Mingyu turns to Minghao. “What do you think?”

“What do you want me to think?” Minghao just asks him. “I don’t want one.”

“But–”

“I don’t want one.” Minghao repeats. “You thought I’d be more motivated just because this time around, they have sad backstories?”

“It doesn’t have to be from this center.” Mingyu says. “It can even be another android dog, if you want. I can have Wonwoo-hyung–”

“I don’t want hyung to make anything for me anymore.” says Minghao. “And I don’t want a dog. Or a cat. Or any other animal.”

“You said the exact same thing about Jun, that you didn’t want him.” Mingyu points out. “But in the end, you did.”

“And Jun’s gone. And he’s not–”

“I’m still looking for him, but I’ll find him, I swear.” Mingyu interrupts. “Just wait.”

“Don’t find him.” Minghao tells him. “I don’t want you to find him.”

“But,” This time, Minghao doesn’t cut him off. “You like animals. You like it when they keep you company.”

“I’m fine. I have company.”

“You know the bird is going to leave someday.” Mingyu says. “Or something’s going to happen to it.” The other is silent. “It won’t stay, even if it knows it won’t survive under the weather, under the rain. It’s not going to be here for long.”

“I know.” Minghao says. “You don’t have to tell me what I already know.”

“Sorry.” The elder apologizes softly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” The holographic screen is switched off, and the two remain silent. “It’s different from before, Mingyu. You know why I don’t want another dog.”

“I know.” He replies, resigned.

The bird is asleep on the bed, which now sits on the floor, close to the glass doors, unfazed by their entire conversation. Minghao didn’t return it to the table, and he didn’t really have to worry about accidentally stepping on the creature, because he was careful, and the bird usually made sure to make its presence known to Minghao whenever he unintentionally got close. It doesn’t open its eyes, even when it starts to rain loudly. Mingyu and Minghao watch the water droplets fall and stain the glass in more silence, not because they don’t know what to say but because they have plenty to say but choose not to do anything. They both don’t want to argue again. They both know the outcome of it and they both know that it isn’t worth it.

“Is it obvious?” Minghao suddenly asks in a soft voice.

“What’s obvious?”

“The fact that I’m lonely,” He explains. “The fact that I like having company, even though I say I don’t. Has it really been obvious for a while? Am I worse at hiding it nowadays?”

Mingyu doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, he reaches over to lace his fingers with Minghao. The latter lets him, and squeezes his hand. It never fails to make Mingyu feel more relaxed, at home, happy. “I knew you were lonely since the moment I met you.” Mingyu answers, truthful. “And from them on, I decided afterwards that I didn’t want you to be. That’s why I kept on talking to you.”

“That long, huh.” Minghao hums. He rests his head on Mingyu’s shoulder. “Stay then.” He says. “If you don’t want me to lonely.”

“Okay.” And he leans back, resting his own head on Minghao’s. “I’ll never leave.” He doesn’t plan to. It’s Minghao that’s another story, but it’s one they can worry about later.

~::~

It’s raining when Mingyu leaves the small confinements of his apartment. He has his raincoat hood on, but he opens an umbrella and takes it with him all the same, going through streets and through the people walking by the sidewalk to reach the subway. It’s a weekday, but since it’s afternoon, there’s no rush hour, and therefore no crowds of people underground, so it’s easy to make his way around the area. He would have work today, but Jeonghan is in another country with Jisoo, and Mingyu had told Jihoon and Seungcheol that he couldn’t make it because he had to do something. As far as Minghao’s concerned, Mingyu’s working, so there aren’t any texts or calls from his boyfriend. Mingyu isn’t bothered, and he thinks its best that he doesn’t tell Minghao his plans.

He removes his raincoat and folds it for the meantime as he boards the subway in silence while the people around his make small talk with their friends or even with strangers. It’s not that Mingyu’s unfriendly, but he doesn’t bother initiating conversation, and he makes sure that no one approaches him by plugging in his earphones and listening to music. Finding a seat is easier since there aren’t a lot of people, and he sits comfortably as he tries getting some work done, just because he wants to be productive. No inspiration comes to in, as well as any coherent and creative thought, so he gives up trying to write and shuts his pocket-sized notebook, shoving it in the pocket of his jacket and continuing to just focus on the songs he’s listening to.

Mingyu hadn’t done anything for majority of the day, but as the subway stops moving the moment it reaches each of its destinations and welcomes new passengers while saying farewell to others, he finds himself getting sleepy. He leans on the window and blinks, trying to get rid of his drowsiness. By the time the subway gets to his stop, he’s the only one inside. It’s not surprising, since no one would go to where he’s at this hour, on this day, when there’s no special occasion, so Mingyu isn’t fazed at the fact that he’s all alone.

It’s not raining in this area, but Mingyu still puts back on the raincoat and strolls around the streets still unfamiliar to him, even after all this time, with the umbrella above him. The streets are desolate and quiet, but it’s something he’s grown used to after visiting this place enough. Besides, his destination is quieter and even emptier in more ways than one.

He buys a small candle and a matchbox that he shoves it in his pockets so he can swing the gate leading to the large garden open, the hinges creaking at the movement. Even though he wears a thick jacket covered by a raincoat, he still feels cold, and pulls his sleeve a bit more to cover his hands as much as it can while he still holds onto the umbrella’s handle.

Mingyu steps through the soft grass instead of walking on the cemented pathways provided. His feet work on autopilot, ignoring the large slabs of engraved stone standing up or lying on the ground he passes by because he doesn’t need to know the words or photos on them to know what he’s looking for. And besides, it makes things easier for him if he pretends that the graves don’t actually exist, that there isn’t actually something under the ground he walks on.

“It’s been a while.” Mingyu says as a greeting, stopping in front of a gravestone far away from the rest, the only one that still has open space around it, waiting to be occupied in time. He takes out the candle and the matchbox and lights it with the stick as he crouches down to put it on top of the stone itself, which lies down flat on the ground. This is one of the few stones that have been kept clean all this time, though it’s probably because of its lack of visitors more than the fact that people clean after it. He doesn’t think he’s even seen a keeper here before. “I’ve been meaning to visit before, but I never found the time until now.” He stands up. As if visits as often as he should. He can imagine the other’s reply, saying that it’s a stupid excuse.

“I know it’s an excuse.” Mingyu says. “Maybe you don’t want me to come because I keep on making them, but I have a better reason for coming this time.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “It’s about Minghao.” He cracks a small smile, but it’s crooked, uncertain. “As always.”

The words Wen Junhui stare back at him in silence, as if it’s telling Mingyu that it’s listening. Because that’s what Junhui’s good at: listening. Not like he can really talk. Mingyu pretends he can, and he often imagines what he’d say, even though he’s never met the man. He doesn’t even know what he sounds like, but no one’s there to tell or correct him.

“You probably already know this because Wonwoo-hyung tells you everything, even until now, but Minghao– he’s,” Mingyu hesitates, strangely finding the words hard to say. “He’s giving up. He keeps himself locked in the house all the time, and he doesn’t want to do anything anymore. He doesn’t want me to find Jun. I still am though.” He adds quickly. “I’m not giving up anytime soon, so don’t worry.” Mingyu bites his lip before heaving a sigh. “It’s like he’s just waiting for everything to end. And I get it; I really do.” A pause. “Kind of. But I want him to still try. If he’s going to leave, can’t he make his last moments here worth remembering? Not that every moment isn’t worth remembering, but,” He licks his lips. “I want it to be extra special, because he deserves it. He won’t listen to me though. I wish you were here to knock some sense into him, even though I don’t know how you’d do it.”

It’s not a new thing for him, to stop talking right after a short rant to Junhui. It’s him trying to find what else to say, wondering what the solution to his problem would be if there’s even a way to solve it, because in the end, Junhui can’t give him the answers he needs. Mingyu needs to find them himself. All Junhui can do is provide him with company and silence, giving him the opportunity to clear his head out and try to think of what to do next.

“I wish we got to know each other.” Mingyu says, not for the first time. He says that during all his visits, but wishing doesn’t get him anywhere, and in the end, he only gets to know Junhui through memories and a gravestone. “I think we’d be good friends. We’d probably do a better job of looking after Minghao. I don’t think he’d like it though, if he found out that his best friend and boyfriend secretly met up behind his back to talk about him.” He often wonders what Minghao would think, if he found out that Mingyu visits Junhui’s grave even though they’re strangers, both important people to Minghao, but from different time periods. It’s ironic, because Minghao is closer with Junhui, but the former has never visited his grave ever since his death, not like Mingyu does. “But since I’m his boyfriend, I won’t give up, even if he has. I’ll still try to convince him to enjoy life a bit more, and I won’t give up finding Jun. That dog means a lot to Minghao, even though he pretends it doesn’t and distracts himself with that bird of his.”

He notices a water droplet falling on the stone, avoiding the candle flame but still too close for Mingyu’s liking. It starts to drizzle, but he’s safe, umbrella still providing him protection and wearing his hood. He pushes his umbrella away to guard the gravestone instead, preventing it from getting wet and making sure the flame doesn’t disperse due to the water. The droplets gently fall against his raincoat, and he can feel them grow stronger with each second, soon becoming a rainfall. Mingyu isn’t bothered.

Mingyu doesn’t say anything afterwards, but he doesn’t leave until the candle’s light flickers out on its own, and by then, the rain has ceased. He can tell the sun is going to set soon, and that he should head back home. It takes him a few seconds before he pulls away the umbrella and rests the pole against his shoulder. “Thank you.” He says, like all the other times, taking a step back to bow to Junhui before turning around and walking away.

On his way out, he notices another person standing by one of the graves. It shouldn’t be surprising, because this place welcomes visitors other than him, but it’s his first time seeing one, so he stops abruptly in his steps, caught off guard.

It’s a boy, probably a bit younger than Mingyu, with blonde hair and wearing a brown coat. He holds a bouquet of flowers, but he only plucks one out and offers that to the stone in front of him. His gaze is focused on the writing, but he seems to notice Mingyu’s presence immediately, looking up the moment Mingyu stops in his tracks.

“Hi.” The boy greets.

“Oh,” Mingyu blinks. “Hi.”

The boy doesn’t say anything for a bit, and Mingyu takes that as his cue to leave, but then the former says, “Did you come to visit him?”

Mingyu shakes his head. “No. I don’t know him.” He says. “Do you?” It’s a stupid question, he realizes a second later, because why wouldn’t this boy know the grave he’s offering a flower to?

To his surprise, the blonde shakes his head as well. “No, actually.” He admits. “It’s actually my first time here.”

That explains why Mingyu’s never seen him before. Or anyone, for that matter. Especially at this time. “Then why are you giving a flower to someone you don’t know?”

The other shrugs. “My boyfriend always says he feels bad for all the graves in this area, because no one comes to visit them since it’s so far and no one cares about the dead people here.” He explains. “And I also felt bad, so that’s why I’m here, giving flowers. I don’t know if it’s worth much, but they’re pretty expensive, so I hope it means something.” He looks at his bouquet. “I don’t think I have enough for everyone though.”

“You don’t.” Mingyu agrees. “But it’s okay. I think a short prayer will do for the rest who don’t get flowers. It’s the thought that counts.”

“I guess.” He says, though he sounds genuinely upset that he can’t give all the dead a flower each. Mingyu doesn’t know anyone who would do this.

“What’s your name?” Mingyu asks.

“Hansol.” He answers.

“Hansol,” Mingyu repeats the name. He walks closer to the younger, and pulls out his wallet, taking out a few bills and handing it to Hansol, who stares at them in surprise and confusion. “You’re a good kid, so use this to buy some more flowers if you want. Or candles, those are cheaper. Or maybe buy dinner for you and your boyfriend. I think this is only enough for two burgers though.”

Hansol accepts it hesitantly, but grateful nonetheless. “Thank you.” He says softly, as if he still can’t process what Mingyu just did.

“Sure.” Mingyu smiles. “I’ll get going then.”

“Thank you!” He hears Hansol yell again, when he’s already far away. Mingyu doesn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw hansol's boyfriend /could/ be seungkwan or not (idk i love just verkwan). they aren't important characters at all and they just make a cameo once (which has already happened). also i really love jihan/jeongsoo and i kind of want to write a side story on them. maybe in this au specifically. idk, what do you guys think?


	6. when the rain stops, let's meet again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg i can't believe it took me this long to post the final chapter huhu i'm so sorry. thing is, i had this last chapter already made months ago, but i never got around to posting it because i didn't have any time to go back and at least edit a bit and i wasn't that content with how it went. until now, i'm still not really content, but the ending went how i wanted it to end, and i didn't want to keep ppl waiting any longer (also i had no other way of changing the events because it's how i always pictured it, though it really went a lot better in my head so i really couldn't do anything anymore).
> 
> also, the chapter title for this was what inspired me to write this in the first place. ioi's downpour truly is a masterpiece (jk jk).

Minghao’s birthday passes by in a blur, mostly because he wakes up after noon and misses not only the breakfast Mingyu had secretly prepared, but also the lunch he had ordered from a fancy restaurant that was delivered to his house. At least Mingyu paid ahead of time, so there was no deliver boy waiting for more than half an hour at a house with an owner who was still deep in slumber. It doesn’t help that all of Mingyu’s plans for the day didn’t push through because Minghao wasn’t feeling up for it, despite just getting out of bed, but he gets over it quickly, says to Minghao to not apologize because this is something he’s gotten used to by now, adapting to their situations and circumstances, so he shouldn’t feel too terrible.

“I’m sorry,” Minghao says, as if he could do something about it.

So Mingyu decides to make it all up to him through Christmas, which he plans more thoroughly while taking Minghao’s condition into consideration. Since neither of them own a Christmas tree, as Minghao isn’t religious (Mingyu isn’t either, but he loves the holidays too much to protest), and Mingyu’s apartment is too small to accommodate anything much, Mingyu makes Wonwoo build a custom disc for him that protects a holographic Christmas tree. He makes it special, even without Mingyu prompting him to, replacing the normal tiny trinkets of decorations attached to the edges of the branches with small polaroid-styled pictures of Minghao, Mingyu, Minghao’s friends, Mingyu’s friends, and Minghao and Mingyu together.

“How did you get all of these?” Mingyu asks, stunned as he stares at the finished product. Mingyu doesn’t remember taking them and doesn’t remember Wonwoo being there when all these events happened.

Wonwoo only smiles. “Secret.” is all he says, weird and cryptic was always. Mingyu was about to exclaim his irritation, but then Wonwoo hands him the bill and the extra charge he placed for making this product special, and Mingyu’s forced to kiss up just so the older would shrink the amount even for just a tiny bit.

Mingyu chooses to celebrate Christmas in Minghao’s house, which is why he puts all the decors he purchased – they’re physical and real this time – around the house. He does it without Minghao’s consent, and the younger just lets it slide, used to this behavior and not really minding because it seemed to make Mingyu happy, doing all these sort of things, celebrating all these sorts of occasions. Besides, Mingyu’s the one doing most of the work anyway. Though even that doesn’t last for long, because the elder manages to coax Minghao into helping even if he doesn’t really want to because Mingyu’s sneaky like that. Soon enough, Minghao’s assisting his boyfriend, handing him all these foreign objects to him that he retrieves from one of the large boxes as Mingyu stands on a ladder and continues setting up everything, trying to make the living room look as festive as possible.

“This is such a hassle.” Minghao complains, not for the first time. “If getting it up there is hard enough, then what more getting it down?”

“The best things in life don’t come easy, Minghao.” Mingyu tells him distractedly, still trying to attach a part of the fairy lights on the hook so it wouldn’t be left hanging. “Besides, you’re not the one going to fix it all up in the end. It’s going to be me.”

“Who ever said that this was one of the best things in life?” Minghao questions, the whiney tone still present.

“I love you, but please shut your mouth so I can concentrate.” Mingyu says. Minghao makes an offended sound, but otherwise keeps quiet afterwards. The elder manages to accomplish his task, and quickly gets down the ladder and runs towards the switch, which is on the other side of the room, Minghao merely watching him. Mingyu had spent nearly an hour working on them, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get to see the fruits of his labor.

When he shifts the switch on, the lights illuminate gradually, starting from the sides and spreading out until they meet in the middle. It’s not all at once, like how Mingyu wanted, but it’s still beautiful nonetheless, especially because of the expression of complete awe on Minghao’s face as he unconsciously walks to the center to turn around and get a good look at what he’s witnessing. The fairy lights emit a strong light, but since the room is big and Mingyu placed it on a high place, it isn’t blinding and it doesn’t overpower the rest of the decorations, supporting its beauty instead.

“It looks really good.” Minghao says, after a while.

“Of course it looks good.” Mingyu says a bit too proudly, walking to him. Without even looking, his arm wraps itself around Minghao’s and his hand tries to search for his. Minghao holds his hand instinctively, unhesitant. “Things that take so long to make better look this good. And Wonwoo-hyung was the one who recommended these lights.”

“Did he make these lights?” Minghao asks.

“No, but he told me which brand was good and where to buy them.” Mingyu says. “Why?”

“You have him make a lot of stuff for you.” Minghao explains. “Or for me. Whichever. Sometimes I think that you’re the reason that he even has a job. Who the fuck in their right mind would go to a machinist that owns a shop that looks like a junkyard anyways?”

“He doesn’t overcharge, I think that’s why.” Mingyu says.

“Doesn’t he do that to you though?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu shrugs. “Best friend benefit, I guess?”

“That isn’t a best friend benefit, stupid.” Minghao laughs. “But he is a good friend.” He adds. “Are you inviting him over on Christmas?”

“I didn’t know you were planning to socialize this Christmas. You should’ve told me if you were thinking of other things to do.” Mingyu teases. “I’m happy you’ve decided to officially help me plan this thing.”

“Fuck off.” Minghao whines, shoving him a little.

“This Christmas is gonna be just the two of us, but I did invite Wonwoo-hyung for dinner.” Mingyu says. “He said no though, even for lunch. Claimed to be busy. With what, I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s work-related.” He turns to Minghao. “Do you want to invite anyone else? Like Soonyoung-hyung?”

“No, hyung is going to spend time with his family.” Minghao says. “Actually, shouldn’t you be as well?”

“Not this year.” says Mingyu. “This Christmas, I’m going to spend it just with you. My family already knows, and it’s not really a big deal that I don’t see them this time around. I spend it with them all the time, so this won’t really make a difference. Plus, it’s with you, so they understand.”

“You don’t have to though.”

“Yeah, but I want to.”

“Okay,” is all Minghao says, but Mingyu can tell that the other is fighting a smile and failing.

“We’ll be together for Christmas. Just the two of us.” Mingyu tells him, pulling Minghao closer to him and practically smothering him. “I’m not leaving alone anytime soon.”

“You’re so clingy.” Minghao says. “It’s annoying.”

“It’s because I love you.” Mingyu says. “This is normal. If you love someone, you’re clingy towards them.”

“I must not love you enough then.” Minghao replies, still trying to escape Mingyu’s tight hold on him.

“Yes, you do.” Mingyu counters. “You told me you loved me last night.”

“That’s because we were having sex. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“That’s rude to all those friends with benefits movies and you know it.” Mingyu points out. “But fine. I’ll make you love me again. Just wait ‘till Christmas.”

Minghao turns to Mingyu, looking at him in confusion. “What’s in Christmas?”

“It’s a secret.” Mingyu says, grinning widely at him with mischief.

“Fuck you.” replies Minghao, making a face, though he isn’t mad.

~::~

They open the Christmas gifts during the evening, right before the actual day. “I don’t even have that many friends.” Minghao says, still shocked at the amount of gifts. The two sit on the ground, right beside the tree, about to start getting some of the wrapped objects and try and find out who the sender is before opening it and showing it to one another. Mingyu’s already got a present, but Minghao is still staring at the collection at awe, as if he can barely process the fact that they have a lot of gifts this year.

“Jisoo-hyung got you a gift.” Mingyu tells him, after they silently sort through some presents meant for them on their own.  

“We’ve never even met.”

“Didn’t seem to stop him from getting you a present though.” He replies, picking up the item. “Here.”

It feels soft under Minghao’s touch, despite the wrapping, and it’s big. Minghao suspects it’s something expensive. “I should thank him.”

“You don’t even know what’s inside.”

“Probably something good, because you make him sound like a good person.” Minghao says, opening it. It’s a bright red jacket, with pockets in the chest area and a camouflage-like design at the bottom. There’s a large print at the back, and it reminds Minghao of a poster, saying _one destiny_ , with a hood that can be detached. “Whoa,” Minghao breathes, raising it up. “This is nice.”

Mingyu looks at Jisoo’s present and bursts out laughing. Minghao looks at him in confusion, wondering why he sounds so amused. “I think that’s one of the coats Jeonghan-hyung made.” He explains. “He sent an entire rack to Jisoo-hyung, and said to sell what he didn’t like. I guess hyung decided it’d be better to send one as a gift for you.”

“I feel like I should be offended because it’s secondhand.” Says Minghao.

“Are you?”

“No,” He answers. “Jeonghan-sshi’s clothes cost a shit ton, don’t they? Plus, it looks good. I like it.”

“What’d you get from him?” Minghao asks him, setting the jacket down.

“Jisoo-hyung didn’t get me anything, actually.” Mingyu admits. “But I did get something from Jeonghan-hyung, which is weird.” He shows Minghao the present, with the exact same wrapping as Jisoo’s, but with different names written on the tag, before opening it. “I’m pretty sure it’s still from Jisoo-hyung though.” He pulls it out of the wrapping, revealing a black jacket. “This is Jeonghan-hyung’s too, though it’s from a different collection.” Mingyu notes.

“I’m glad you’re friends with rich people.” Minghao says. “They get you expensive things.”

“We’re not friends.” Mingyu replies. “Jeonghan-hyung is just my boss. If we were the same age and in the same status, we probably wouldn’t even be friends.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re friendly with your rich boss and his rich fiancé.” Corrects Minghao, albeit a bit irritated.

“Let’s open up the rest tomorrow. We already finished half.” Mingyu tells him after a while. “But I’m going to give you your present already.”

“Okay.” Minghao agrees, watching as Mingyu gets up to retrieve his gift. “Here is yours.” The younger adds, getting his own present for the other. They exchange, and Minghao is shocked at how large but light Mingyu’s present feels, as if there’s nothing in it. “What’s in here?”

“You’ll see.” Mingyu says, giving him a cheeky grin. Minghao is immediately suspicious.

Under the colorful green wrapping is a big box, and Minghao stares at it with wariness before lifting the lid. There’s another box inside, and within it, another one. He goes through around five boxes, each getting smaller and smaller, until he reaches a really tiny one, and Mingyu quickly assures him that it’s the last one. Minghao shoots Mingyu a look before returning to the tiny black box and opening it. It’s a pair of earrings, silver and with the symbol of infinity signs dangling from it, positioned in a way that make them look like 8s. He’s seen them before, somewhere, and it reminds him of the accessories celebrities and artists wear. He smiles when he pulls them out of the container and lets them sit at his palm, because they’re really fucking pretty. Mingyu quickly stands up. “Can I put them on you?”

Minghao lets him, and Mingyu gets his phone to show Minghao what the earrings look like on him. “You look beautiful.” Mingyu says.

“Thanks.” Minghao replies, touching them. They feel expensive, and they most likely are, because Mingyu doesn’t buy cheap things. He feels spoiled, like he doesn’t deserve any of this, but he doesn’t say so, just chooses to appreciate them instead. “This must’ve costed a lot.”

“That’s not my main gift though.”

“What?”

Mingyu gets the small box and puts it in Minghao’s hands. “There’s something under.” He tells him. Minghao lifts the layer where the earrings previously rested in, and beneath it is a cushion with a bronze ring seated at the center. It’s just ordinary, plain and thick, but his eyes widen nonetheless. Mingyu asks him if he can put it on him as well, and Minghao just nods, unable to say a word as the ring is slipped through his finger. Mingyu is smiling widely, just as widely as Minghao did when he found the earrings, though he doesn’t say anything either.

After Mingyu’s pulled back, sitting right in front of Minghao with an expectant look on his face, still smiling stupidly, Minghao speaks. “I thought you were going to propose to me.”

He expects to hear a _no, I wasn’t going to_ , but Mingyu surprises him by saying something else, and Minghao nearly chokes. “I had a feeling that if I did, you’d say no.” Mingyu confesses. “And I know why, so you don’t need to explain it to me. This is more of a promise ring.” He takes Minghao’s hand and brushes his thumb against the jewelry.

“A promise for what?”

“That I’ll always love you, no matter what happens.” Mingyu says. “Even if – when – you move on, or _I_ move on, I don’t want you to forget that.”

Minghao gives him a bittersweet smile and lets their hands interlock. Mingyu’s words make him feel proud, because at least the older is no longer in denial with what’s happening, what’s going to happen, but he feels sad, at the same time, because there is no escaping their fate. He’s known it for a long time, but acknowledging it out loud makes it all the more real, and sometimes Minghao feels like it isn’t.

“I won’t.” He promises him.

“I think you’d look good if you wore the earrings and the jacket Jisoo-hyung got you at the same time.” Mingyu says to lighten the mood. “For a special occasion or something.”

“Like now?”

“No.” Mingyu says. “Like for a wedding or something.” The suggestion suddenly makes Minghao’s insides twist uncomfortably, and maybe Mingyu notices, because he adds. “Or not. I don’t know. But you’d look good, no matter what.”

“You’re only saying that because you got them for me.”

“I’m complimenting you!” Mingyu protests. “You look really beautiful.”

“You always say that.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re beautiful.” Mingyu says. Minghao flushes, but he smiles, and allows Mingyu to see it. The latter grins and leans forward to kiss the other on the lips. It’s fleeting, because then Mingyu remembers about Minghao’s present, and he quickly moves away to turn around and look for his boyfriend’s present.

“Don’t open it yet.” He says, stopping him. “Do it when you get home or something. Or when I’m not here.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me.” Minghao tells him, and Mingyu nods, though reluctantly, and agrees. “Let’s clean up.” He checks the time. “It’s already one in the morning, and I’m tired.”

They do a quick work of fixing up, exhaustion running through their veins and weighing them down. They do have the energy to go upstairs and brush their teeth, heading to Minghao’s bedroom afterwards because they’ve gotten so used to sharing a bed that it’s a habit to sleep by each other’s side. Mingyu helps remove Minghao’s earrings, but the other insists on keeping the ring on, and Mingyu flops down on the bed really happy because of that. “I’m glad you liked it.” He tells him.

“Of course I like it.” is all Minghao says, lying down.

“I love you.”

Minghao hums. “Me too.” And they close their eyes, falling into slumber.

~::~

Mingyu wakes up by the noon of Christmas a little upset at the time of day, but content with the fact that he goes down to see Minghao in a good mood, by the kitchen making lunch. Food made by Minghao is something new to him, because he didn’t even know the other cooked, but it’s good, and Minghao said he wanted to treat Mingyu to at least this, and Mingyu can’t help but think that this could’ve been their life is they had better circumstances and more time. He doesn’t dwell on the thought long though, because he knows there’s no point.

“Did you have anything planned today?” Minghao asks.

“Actually, yeah.” Mingyu says. “For tonight. It involves going out.”

Minghao frowns. “Mingyu,” He starts. Mingyu looks at Minghao while biting his lip and waits for the latter to say that he can’t go out, that it’s an immediate no. He expected, but it didn’t mean Mingyu couldn’t hope. “I haven’t been outside in weeks.” Minghao says instead. Minghao isn’t saying no, but it isn’t a yes either.

“I know.” Mingyu says, threading carefully. “I was hoping that would mean that you have the energy to spare to go out. We’re only going to one place.” He explains. “Plus,” adds Mingyu. “The weather’s good today.”

“Having a good weather right now doesn’t mean shit.” Minghao points out, huffing, strangely choosing to only comment on that out of all the things Mingyu said. “It’s unpredictable, no matter how many times reporters say otherwise.”

“Fine.” Mingyu says. “The weather is good so far.” He corrects himself. “That’s why I think now’s a perfect time to go out.”

Minghao hesitates. “I don’t know. . .” He drifts off. “I really haven’t been outside in almost forever. I don’t know what might happen if I leave just like that.”

“I know; that’s why it depends on you if you still want to go.” Mingyu says. “We can always do stuff here. I just, I don’t know, thought we could do something special for today, since it’s Christmas. I promise you’ll really love it there, and it’ll be worth going out.” Minghao still looks hesitant, so Mingyu adds. “If you want. Only if you’re up for it.”

“Okay.” Minghao says, after a while.

“Okay as in you understand what I’m saying?” Mingyu inquires.

“Okay as in okay, let’s go out.” Minghao explains. Mingyu smiles widely, and Minghao gives him an exasperated look. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“Since when have I ever?” Mingyu asks, but Minghao’s already upstairs to change. Mingyu follows later.

~::~

They leave a bit later than Minghao thought they would, when the sun isn’t as bright and hot and the night is about to happen in an hour or so, mostly because Mingyu says what he wants to show Minghao is best shown at the evening. It makes the younger all the most hesitant to go, but he doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t want to ruin Mingyu’s excitement.

Mingyu, as always, won’t tell Minghao where they’re headed. All he said was that it wasn’t far and Minghao wouldn’t regret agreeing to it. Repeatedly. Minghao told him to shut up the fifth time, but Mingyu continues saying it anyway, as if he’s doing it more to reassure himself that this was good idea rather than Minghao himself.

Even though it’s December, there isn’t any winter. Normally, there’s supposed to be, but there are times when the climate goes against what it’s supposed to do. Everyone who lives in Seoul has learned to accept its unpredictability at some point, but it doesn’t mean they’ve gotten any better in foreseeing the weather, despite all the advanced technology the country and city possess. While Minghao had wanted the see winter this time around, he guesses it’s also good that there’s none, because his body couldn’t handle the cold anyway, and Mingyu wouldn’t be able to take him to the place he’s super excited about.

The elder holds Minghao’s hand the entire time they walk. Minghao only wears a thick jacket, which is still pathetic protection against Seoul’s weather, especially because it’s really out to get Minghao and his health, but at least Mingyu provided him a special kind of mask to cover his mouth and nose that filters the air he takes in. It looks like an ordinary mouth mask, and it feels just like one, so Minghao doesn’t look strange, but it’s custom-made for people like him. Wonwoo, as always, was the one who made the filter.   

“I swear you’re the reason his business is still alive.” Minghao exclaims.

“It’s a best friend’s duty to support his best friend’s career.” Mingyu says.

“I clearly remember him being the only one who booed you in one of your soundchecks.” says Minghao. “But sure. Whatever you say.”

The journey is far, but Minghao has enough energy and restlessness from not leaving the house for such a long time that he can handle it. They move slowly, passing by stores and people that they let themselves pay attention to, because Mingyu wants him to be able to explore the places he’s never been able to before. They stop by a pastry shop and buy donuts, which are apparently what they’re famous for, according to Mingyu, and then they enter a café after walking by a few more streets to get coffee. They listen to music, sharing earphones that play whatever songs Mingyu’s phone is streaming, and they don’t stop holding hands.

“You’ve really never been around the entire of Seoul before?” Mingyu asks.

“I don’t really like visiting far places.” Minghao says. “But even around here, I haven’t seen much. I only go to familiar locations, and ones that are near my house or the studio. Or your apartment.”

“I hope you’ve never been there before then.” says Mingyu. “To where we’re going, I mean. It’d suck if it’s a place you already know.”

“I’m sure it won’t be.” The other reassures him. “I really don’t go out a lot.”

All the walking makes Minghao hungry, and Mingyu tells him that they should eat to get more energy. They waste a lot of time trying to find a restaurant that isn’t full or that serves good food, which is harder than it seems, because as the moon rises, people are heading home or already eating. Much to Mingyu’s embarrassment and disappointment, they end up staying in a convenience store, but Minghao doesn’t complain, and he doesn’t mind.

“There’s nothing wrong with eating ramen.” Minghao says, once they’ve sat down in an area by the window with their hot cooked bowls in hand. “It’s actually good.”

“I think there’s something wrong with doing it on Christmas.”

“Well, we didn’t leave the house for ramen anyway, so it’s not that big of a deal.” Minghao picks up his chopsticks and starts digging in. Mingyu sulks about what they’re eating for a few more seconds, but soon, he’s eating as well. It resurfaces a memory in Minghao, one that he recalls fondly. The first time the two of them went out on a date, which was dinner at a fancy restaurant Mingyu found, they ended up eating in a place just like this, since Mingyu’s reservation ended up strangely being invalid and they couldn’t go in dressed so informally. Minghao doesn’t know if Mingyu remembers it, but he doesn’t ask.  

“I should make it up to you.” Mingyu tells Minghao later on, after dinner is done and they’ve resumed walking.

“It’s fine.” he says, waving a hand in dismissal. “It really is. You should stop blaming yourself for things like this. They aren’t that bad.”

“Okay.” The elder nods. “I’m still sorry.”

Minghao hums, looking down at his sneakers as they continue moving. Mingyu tugs on his arm to tell him to turn to another direction, and the area is so dark for the latter to immediately notice where they’re headed until they’re already halfway through a stairwell Minghao didn’t even know existed outside in Seoul before. The pathway is narrow and it stretches a bit farther than what’s he’s used to, and it doesn’t help that the trees are all around, too tall and many for him to even see the sky.

“Are you taking me out all the way here to some shady ass place to kill me?” Minghao asks.

“No,” Mingyu says, sounding offended. “If anyone wanted to kill you, they could just do it in your house. I’m like half sure all your neighbors are all ghosts because they saw you trashed one time, caused commotion, and no one came out.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad when I’m drunk.”

“Well, you wouldn’t know because you don’t remember anything that happens whenever you’re wasted.” Minghao just huffs in reply, conceding but not outright admitting it to Mingyu.

“Seriously though,” Minghao says, coughing a bit. “This place seems sketchy.”

“I know, but trust me.” Mingyu reassures him. “Like you always do.” He holds onto the other’s hand, and starts to lead the way.

Minghao smiles. “Okay.” He agrees. “You better not abuse that trust.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” The older says softly. And then they continue walking in silence, eventually reaching the top. Minghao lets out a relieved breath, but then Mingyu’s nudging him to someplace else, and the younger’s jaw nearly drops at the view in front of him.

If Minghao thought the staircase he had just walked up was steep, then this one is another story. It’s so far up that he thinks he could reach the sky by the time he gets there. He could probably lose a lot of weight just climbing up, as much as he does when he goes on his morning jogs, and those probably last longer than just going up. It doesn’t look exciting or worth it in the slightest, but Mingyu doesn’t seem to think the same.

“There are more, just saying.” Mingyu supplies, as if that’ll make the situation better. “But this is the only long one. The rest are all short ones.”

“Why aren’t there any elevators for this stuff?” Minghao asks. “Seoul should be advanced enough to make that shit.”

“I don’t think they modernize areas like this on purpose.” Mingyu says, but when the other asks why, he refuses to say. “You’ll see. All this walking will pay off.” And then he’s beckoning Minghao to start hiking up the stairs. The latter grumbles, but he eventually complies, even though he’s already starting to get exhausted. He’s already here; it’d be stupid to stop now.

They’re not even halfway through the stairwell and Minghao’s legs are already aching. He thinks they’ll cramp at some point, and he feels like he’s going to lose the urge to continue moving forward. He tugs on Mingyu, who is a step ahead of him, to get his attention. “Mingyu,” Minghao starts. “Carry me.”

“What?”

“I said, carry me.” Minghao repeats, letting out a cough. “I might collapse at this rate.”

“But we’re almost there.”

“I know. That’s why you should help me.” Mingyu bites his lip, hesitant. “Didn’t you want to make it up to me? Then make it up to me through this.” The younger says. “Carry me.”

Mingyu gives Minghao a long look, as if he’s contemplating on whether to do what his boyfriend wants or remain stubborn and continue convincing the other to walk on his own. The first option seems to be the more logical one, because he lets out a resigned sigh that tells Minghao that he’s won, and the elder pulls away from the other’s hold, turning his back to him and crouching down a bit.

Carrying one isn’t something they do often, because they are both perfectly capable men who can support their own weight, though Mingyu has gotten away with it more than once with carrying Minghao while the latter’s guard was down just for the fun of it, because it’s apparently a sappy thing that couples do and Kim Mingyu is known to be a romantic man. It’s not as if Minghao hasn’t carried the other himself, though he does it whenever the older has accidentally fallen asleep, just to save him some dignity of being carried by someone younger. So when Minghao hops on Mingyu’s back, Mingyu nearly loses his breath and falls forward, not used to the sudden heavy weight of his boyfriend.

“For someone so skinny, you’re really heavy.” Mingyu grumbles, though he doesn’t stop the other. Instead, he tries to adjust his grip on Minghao to make sure that he won’t slip away. In turn, the younger leans closer to him, firmly holding onto his shoulders and squeezing them to comfort Mingyu. Once the latter is confident enough that Minghao won’t fall, he resumes walking. His steps are slower and done with much more force than usual, so it takes them longer to move, but Minghao doesn’t mind, contently resting his chin on Mingyu’s hair and enjoying the suffering his boyfriend is going through because of him.

They don’t talk, mostly because Mingyu can’t really strike up a conversation when all his attention is focused on carrying the both of them as they walk up a steep stairwell, and Minghao doesn’t think he wants to burden Mingyu with the need to chatter. He doesn’t mind the silence, but just to give Mingyu some sort of distraction from his challenge, Minghao starts to hum a song. He does it without thought, so he doesn’t really recognize what he’s humming until a few moments after. It’s a song of Mingyu’s. A track that isn’t as hip hop or beat-heavy as compared to the others. It was one of the rare solemn ones, with a gentle melody and gentler singing, coming from Jihoon-hyung and some other feature artist. There were rap parts too, but they were slow and softly performed. While Mingyu doesn’t rap the parts of the song when Minghao reaches those portions or sing along, the younger can tell from how Mingyu’s started to move as he walks that he’s listening, and his body follows the beat of the song, steps slowing down to follow the timing.

“It’s a nice song.” Minghao says, once they’ve reached the top. Mingyu doesn’t abruptly set the other down, much to Minghao’s surprise, doing it gradually instead.

The older is panting heavily, crouching forward with his hands resting on his knees and head lowered, still trying to even out his breathing. “It was about you.”

Minghao chuckles. “If it wasn’t about me, I’d be concerned.” He teases.

Mingyu grins, looking up at the younger. “I think I’m gonna die.” He eventually says. “My heart is beating super loud.”

“That means you should exercise.”

“Or that means that you’re really fucking heavy.”

Minghao suppresses a comment that mentions how that’s what Mingyu gets for taking him to such a faraway and difficult-to-get-to place like this, and tugs on the other’s arm instead. “C’mon,” It’s now his turn to say it, for once. “Let’s go.”

Even though Minghao goes ahead, Mingyu catches up in no time, as if he wasn’t worn out from carrying him across a steep stairwell. They don’t hold hands as they walk up the remaining stairs, but they are side by side, arms touching and brushing against one another in silence, without words.

By the time they reach the top, Minghao’s greeted with the sight of a deck, void of people and with barely any light to illuminate the place properly, not that he minds. There’s a large temple that sits behind the wide open space, which has railings all around the ledge. They space is larger than it looks, Minghao realizes, as they walk to the center. Mingyu lets Minghao walk around first, trying to take in what he’s seeing, and upon getting a better view at the temple from the front, something clicks in him. Eungbongsan Mountain. “Isn’t this a tourist attraction?” He asks.

“Yup,” Mingyu says. “But since it’s late at night, nobody bothers coming. Especially on Christmas.” He adds. “Haven’t you been here before?”

“No,” says Minghao. “I never even knew a place like this existed.”

“The way to get here is kinda vague.” Mingyu explains. “So foreigners don’t really consider going here unless they know ahead of time what it really is.”

They walk to edge, lightly leaning on the railings and gazing down at the view below. The different lights coming from different areas that shine beneath create a beautiful sight, and it leaves Minghao breathless. He can see cars moving through the streets and if he squints, even the vague figures of the people. Mingyu presses close to him, looking as well. It’s Minghao’s first time seeing something from this kind of perspective, but he doesn’t think it’s Mingyu’s.

“You come here a lot?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu breathes. “To think. It’s a good thinking place.”

“Do you ever good sick of looking at it?”

“No,” And he sounds like he means it. “It’s one of those things that’ll always look beautiful no matter how many times you’ve seen it.” Minghao doesn’t turn his gaze away from the city below, but he can feel Mingyu’s eyes on him. Minghao is too enamored by the lights to comment on what Mingyu’s doing. The view says a lot about Seoul, how it’s so busy but it can be peaceful at the same time. It’s obvious that it’s a noisy city, but he doesn’t feel it, not from this place. It’s hard to believe he’s actually a part of all that.

“I like it.” Minghao says.

“Really?” Mingyu asks, surprised.

“Yeah,” Minghao says softly. “I don’t get to see something like this every day. It’s better seeing it in person than through photos.”

“I’m glad you liked it then.” says Mingyu. “Merry Christmas.”

Minghao hums. “Is it better than your birthday?” Mingyu asks him.

“Is that what you were after? Making today better than my birthday?” Minghao says, but Mingyu only gives him a smile in response. The younger pretends to mull over it. “I guess it’ll be if we end the day the same way.”

Mingyu instantly perks up at that. “I brought a condom and a small lube packet with me. Wanna do it at the temple?”

Minghao gives the other an incredulous look. “Please don’t tell me you’re serious.”

Mingyu’s grin doesn’t waver.

 ~::~

Mingyu goes to the cemetery earlier than usual, probably an hour or more before the sun even considers rising. He had slipped out of Minghao’s bed and his house without worry or warning, because Minghao knows Mingyu has the tendency to sometimes leave with no goodbye or promise for immediate return afterwards, and he doesn’t mind. Minghao never asks questions, even though Mingyu does at times. At first, Mingyu thought it was because the other didn’t care, but Minghao just respected his privacy a lot more than Mingyu respected his. The younger doesn’t mind Mingyu’s behavior, but that taught Mingyu to tone it down anyway with the overprotectiveness. Minghao had his own life, after all, and Mingyu didn’t need to know every bit of it.

Dressed in a ratty brown coat is Wonwoo, standing in front of Junhui’s grave. Mingyu supposes he should be surprised, because he’s never seen the other here before, but he isn’t, strangely. Maybe in the back of his mind, he kind of figured that Wonwoo did this, and the two just coincidentally didn’t meet until now. He has a feeling that this isn’t Wonwoo’s first time visiting, so he doesn’t mention it, standing beside his best friend in silence.

“You’re here early.” Wonwoo comments, the first one to speak.

“So are you.” Mingyu replies.

“I stayed here the entire Christmas.” The older tells him. Mingyu is quiet, because he didn’t expect that kind of answer. Wonwoo continues talking. “Do you know where this candle came from?” He asks, pointing at the slowly melting wax with a flame still burning bright sitting at the corner of the gravestone.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says. “I think it’s from this kid I met before– his name is Hansol. He gets flowers or candles for the dead.” Though he didn’t expect him to be doing it until now. Mingyu could be completely wrong and it could turn out that Hansol didn’t actually offer these, but, Mingyu’s sure it’s him.

“Just because he wants to?” Mingyu hums in response. “That’s hard to believe.”

“I know.” The younger agrees.

There’s a pause between them, before Wonwoo speaks up again. He’s not normally this talkative, but Mingyu isn’t against it. “Has he ever come here before?”

“No.” Wonwoo doesn’t need to say his name for Mingyu to know who he’s referring to. “He can’t. He’s too weak and the weather is unpredictable. He doesn’t want to risk it.”

“Figures,” Wonwoo says. “Junhui was really weak too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” He says. “He went out a lot anyway though, just because he wanted to prove something. That he was stronger; that he could handle it, even though he couldn’t. Even though it took a toll on his body.”

“The weather’s really a bitch, isn’t it?” Mingyu inquires, staring up at the sky. The sun hasn’t risen up just yet, but it’s no longer as dark as before. The sky is quiet and a bit of dim, but it’s beautiful. Seoul is beautiful. How it affects others who don’t originate from the land isn’t.

“Just to foreigners,” says Wonwoo, shrugging. “They aren’t immune to the weather’s toxicity like we are.”

“I know.” Mingyu says. “It’s what killed Junhui, after all, right?”

“It’s what’ll kill Minghao.” He says. “If he doesn’t leave.”

“Is that what you told Junhui?”

“He already knew.” Wonwoo replies. “And he didn’t care. He liked his life here and wanted to spend the rest of it like that. No one could stop him.” From Wonwoo’s expression, Mingyu could tell that secretly, Wonwoo didn’t really want to stop him either.

“Do you think he died peacefully?” Mingyu asks him.

“He died by the riverbank. Tripped or something. No one really knows the story, but I’m guessing it’s something stupid.” He says. “I think he died without warning, died unexpected and anticlimactic. He was probably content with it.” He gazes at the stone, but his eyes are vacant and wandering. “It didn’t feel peaceful though.”

 _It made me angry_ is what Wonwoo doesn’t say, but his tone explains enough. Mingyu knows him. He knows of the prototype mannequins and androids stashed in Wonwoo’s storage room, all with the same face and same programming with minor differences, minor adjustments meant to improve the invention and make it into something Wonwoo wanted it to be. He had given up on that project long ago, but Mingyu never forgot the way Wonwoo stressed for days over it in the back of his workshop, barely sleeping and eating, trying to get it right because he refused to give up, because he thought that he could do something even though he knew better. It was a bad time, one that still remains in Mingyu’s mind, and he’s hit with a sudden fear that he’ll turn out the same.

“Don’t worry so much, Mingyu.” Wonwoo says, as if he knows what Mingyu’s thinking. “You’re different. You’ll know what to do.” He turns around, and walks away without another word.

“Just because I know what to do doesn’t mean I want to do it. It doesn’t mean I’ll actually do it.” Mingyu says. “It doesn’t mean it’ll automatically work out.”

No one responds, and the sun goes up in silence. There have never been any birds to accompany the rising light as it reaches the sky. A few minutes later, Mingyu bows to Junhui and leaves as well.

~::~

They fuck with the window blinds spread open, without any light except for the moon’s to illuminate across the bedroom. It’s raining heavily outside, but they don’t care much about the weather when they’re inside, distracted and busy and focused on other things. Minghao, Mingyu thinks, not for the first time, looks beautiful under it. He’s also incredibly thin. And exhausted – the kind of exhausted that doesn’t sit well with Mingyu, that makes him think that Minghao isn’t supposed to be like that.

“Stop,” Mingyu says, as Minghao bounces on his lap. It was hot a few seconds ago, but now the sight is nauseating. He grips onto the other’s hips, trying to still him. “Minghao, stop.”

“Why?” Minghao asks, looking up at him, finally stopping. “You’re still hard, I can feel you.”

“Yeah, but you’re not.” Mingyu says, looking down at Minghao’s softening cock, frowning. “Get off me.”

“It’s fine. It’ll go hard again after a few strokes.” Minghao reassures him, trying to go back to fucking himself down on Mingyu, only to wince when he does so. Mingyu’s frown doesn’t fade.

“Seriously, stop it.” Mingyu tells him, more firmly this time. “There’s no point in me being the only one getting off.” He looks into Minghao’s eyes to try and convince him, to show how serious he is about what he’s saying.

Minghao stares back, contemplating on what to do, whether to follow Mingyu or not. Then, he sighs, and lets Mingyu help him up, pulling out of him so that they can lie down beside each other. Minghao practically flops on the bed, the exhaustion he was feeling earlier weighing all over him now that he’s relaxed. Mingyu looks concerned.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, wrapping his arms around Minghao, whose back is turned to him as he gazes someplace else.

“This is stupid.” Minghao says. “I don’t even have the energy to fuck anymore. Soon enough, I’ll lose the strength to do other everyday stuff too.”

“Then leave.”

Minghao stays silent at Mingyu’s words. The older thinks that he’s going to get mad, and that they’re going to have another argument, but then Minghao says, “This is my house.” in a voice that tells Mingyu that Minghao thinks he’s a fucking idiot for suggesting something like that. Maybe he is.

“You know what I mean.” Mingyu says softly. “Leave Seoul. I’m sure you’ll recover if you go back to China, if you go back home.”

“It’s too late, Mingyu.” Minghao says, and he sounds resigned, like he’s told Mingyu this so many times. Mingyu doesn’t know what to say. “I tried leaving the house yesterday to go on an errand.” He explains. “I thought I could handle it, because I was able to go out during Christmas, so I thought that I’d be okay. But then it rained, and I started coughing out blood. I managed to get back inside, but I think I fainted afterwards. Last Christmas– it was the last time. So even if I go back, it won’t change a thing.”

“So there’s nothing? No hope?”

“No.”

Mingyu says nothing, only leans forward and rests his head on Minghao.

“The bird really wants to go out.” Minghao starts. “It gets more impatient as each day passes. It’s scared though, and it usually just sits by the ledge of the veranda before coming back in.” he pauses. “I know it’ll leave soon though– you were right, it can’t stay here forever.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“You always say sorry even when it’s not your fault. Shouldn’t I be the one that’s sorry for once?” Minghao asks, trying to huff out a laugh. It doesn’t work, and they both fall silent.

“China was never home to me, Mingyu.” Minghao tells him. “But Seoul is. Because Junhui was here, because you’re here.”

“Home isn’t supposed to kill you.” Mingyu can hear Minghao’s heartbeat, even though the younger isn’t facing him. It beats slowly, but it’s strong too. He doesn’t know if it’s changed from before, but he likes it anyway. It’s Minghao’s heartbeat, after all.

“Maybe that’s the price of being with home.” The younger says, finally turning to him. He looks worn out and exhausted, but his eyes are just as unwavering and tough as they were the first time they met. Mingyu thinks he could fall in love all over again.

~::~

Working outdoors is something Mingyu rarely does, especially because his jobs have no need for it, but when he does it, he actually enjoys it. He doesn’t really draw any inspiration from anything outside, but he likes the atmosphere it has, unlike complete shut-ins he knows like Jihoon and Minghao, though he understands why they’re like that.

Jihoon had sent him an email while Mingyu was having breakfast with instructions on their next album, before sending him a folder containing a couple of tracks that he wanted Mingyu to make melodies and lyrics for. It was due in two weeks, but Mingyu starts working on it anyway, just because he wants to get some done so he wouldn’t have to cram it. And he feels like being productive right now; the ideas flow easily to him today.

He spends most of his afternoon glued to his laptop, listening to the songs and trying to make something out of them as he sits in a bench in a park that is oddly void of people. He guesses he shouldn’t be so surprised though – there are much better things to do than work and wander around places like this during this time. Mingyu considers contacting Minghao and telling him to come see him and enjoy the park that they’d have to themselves, before he realizes better and refrains himself.

The place is special to Mingyu, even though he’s been to other parks in Seoul that are much more famous and full of more things to do and explore. Mingyu’s a sentimental man, and this park has memories he treasures. His parents always used to take him here, just because one of their regular clients lived nearby, and Mingyu could never go with them, forced to stay in the park all alone to try and make friends and keep himself busy. It’s where he met Wonwoo, who liked to go to many places just to show off the stuff he made and ask strangers their opinions of it. Mingyu always had something to say about anything Wonwoo brought, and the older liked that someone had so many thoughts about his creations, despite how simple they were. And it’s where Mingyu and Minghao ended up when they came home from Soonyoung’s birthday party – the only one they even went to together – instead of one of their own houses, messing around like the drunk idiots they were in a public area in the dark before vomiting on random plants and passing out afterwards on the bench, waking up when morning came with a splitting headache and a hatred for the sun. Minghao was perfectly fine back then. Lots of times, Mingyu misses those times when things were easier, simpler.

Judging from the brief run Mingyu went to as he skimmed through the tracks, Jihoon’s trying to go for a different kind of music for the next album, one more solemn and sad-centered. It’s nothing new, because they’ve done it before, but it’s the first where majority of the songs had that kind of sound. Mingyu doesn’t really mind – it’s a new genre, and he’s open to trying out new things.

Thinking of melodies come easier to him than writing the lyrics, so Mingyu just records whatever sounds he thinks will fit well with the instruments and beats he’s being given on his phone and decides to just think of the words for them later on. He’s only halfway through the entire folder when it starts to rain, but even that doesn’t stop him, still working despite getting his laptop and himself drenched in the process. At least the gadget is water resistant and doesn’t destroy even as the heavy rain falls.

He’s so focused on what he’s doing that he almost doesn’t notice the footsteps that start to approach him, coming closer, making loud sounds as they hit the ground and create a small splash because of the rain. But Mingyu does look up, because he does notice it, and he nearly drops his laptop out of shock because it’s Minghao.

“Minghao?” Mingyu exclaims, voice louder than normal in order to be heard over the rain. “What the fuck are you doing here?” The younger is dressed in a way that doesn’t fit the weather, that isn’t safe for his health, only wearing ripped blue jeans, rubber shoes, and a blue checkered shirt under the red jacket from Jisoo for Christmas. Minghao isn’t even wearing the hood. He looks good in that attire, almost like a model, but still. It’s raining, and appearances don’t matter under the weather, and he isn’t supposed to be out here, especially wearing only that.

Minghao shrugs and walks forward, heading to Mingyu. “Looking for you,” He replies. “It left.”

“What did?”

“The bird,” Minghao explains, standing in front of him. He’s also wearing the earrings Mingyu gave him. They glisten in Mingyu’s eyes, despite the lack of sunlight to make that happen. “It flew away this morning, and it didn’t come back.” His eyes are hooded, glumly accepting, and despite his fancy getup, he looks worse for wear. “It left, so I decided to leave too.” He’s as soaked as Mingyu is, and the latter realizes that it’s the first time he’s seen Minghao under the rain and completely undisturbed by it, as if he it didn’t have such a big effect on him.

“Is that why you’re out here? Are you looking for the bird?” Minghao shakes his head. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I miss you,” Minghao answers. “Can’t I miss my boyfriend?”

Mingyu stares at him, not looking convinced. “You can sit.” He eventually says, patting to the empty space beside the bench, inviting Minghao. The latter sits down without a word, pressing close to Mingyu. Suddenly the rain isn’t as deafening as Mingyu thought, because he can not only hear his words, but he can hear his own thoughts as well. “What do you think happened to the bird?”

“I found it dead outside my house.” Minghao says. “I put it in a shoebox and buried it before coming here.”

Mingyu leans to gently kiss his hair in silence. “I can’t read a bird’s emotion, but I think it died content. Maybe not happy, but content.” Minghao continues.

He makes a move to lie down on Mingyu’s lap, so the older shifts his laptop to one leg so he can let Minghao lie down on the other. Minghao gazes up at the sky dauntingly, and Mingyu suppresses the urge to shield his face so he won’t get hit by the raindrops. Minghao doesn’t even flinch when the droplets land on him, instead taking them all in. He occasionally flinches, but he still doesn’t turn away. “This is the first time I’ve ever been under the rain without anything to cover me.”

“I know.”

“I like it.”

Mingyu hums. “I used to love the rain.”

“You should love it again.” Minghao tells him. Mingyu uses his thumb to wipe away the raindrops on Minghao’s face, and Minghao turns around after he’s done, back turned to him and trying to find a more comfortable position.

“Maybe someday,” Mingyu considers. Minghao closes his eyes, and the gesture is done lightly, gently. Mingyu’s heart aches and swells at the same time. “I love you.”

His hand trails down the other’s body, finding Minghao’s hand and brushing his knuckles before making his way to his fingers, trying to memorize how they feel under his own touch before he feels something solid and tough, something familiar. The bronze ring Mingyu had given him. Mingyu doesn’t fight back his small smile. Their hands interlock, and when Mingyu squeezes his hand, Minghao responds by holding onto it firmly.

Minghao hums. “I know.”

Mingyu doesn’t know how long they stay like that, silent and still, hands holding one another, under the gloomy weather, but eventually, the rain starts to weaken, fading, and so does the strength of their hold one another’s. Mingyu huffs out a sigh.

“Happy New Year, Minghao.”

Minghao’s grip has loosened, but Mingyu refuses to slip away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by the way, some info for you all regarding the timeline of the story and its events in case you didn't catch on (not really important, but just a few facts): 1) all of this was set in one year; 2) wonwoo was friends with junhui and minghao even before mingyu met china line, but wonwoo and mingyu are childhood friends and; 3) mingyu met minghao shortly after junhui died. 
> 
> there's supposed to be an additional scene that really ties up all the loosely ended stuff spread out in the fic together, but i haven't written it yet and idk if i will haha. depends on my time to be honest, but this story is definitely finished. 
> 
> ahahaha thank you to everyone who stuck with this fic, reading it, placing kudos, bookmarking it, and commenting on it, especially. i really appreciated every single one of them, and if you have any questions about the fic, then maybe hmu on my cc in my profile. i'll write better fics, i promise. my writing has kind of changed ever since i started and finished on this fic (which sat in my drafts forever), so just stay tuned :D

**Author's Note:**

> playlist: downpour by ioi; don't wanna cry by seventeen; nothing like us by justin bieber (cover done by jeon jungkook); i was able to eat well by homme; beautiful by pentagon; dead leaves by bts; fly by got7
> 
> (unbeta'd)
> 
> kudos and comments are really appreciated!! hmu in twitter if you want~ it's in my [profile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/disstrack/profile)


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